Heirs and Heirlooms
by 2amlovesick
Summary: Family and this land is all Bella has ever known or needed. From family: she has love, security and knew her destiny. From the land: she knew it would sustain her so she studied, nurtured and worked it. Fate steps in, taking her parents and is now trying to take her land. How does she survive? AH Canon pairings. Death not canon or graphic. M for later. The Great Depression Era. HEA
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the major characters. There will be bits of history throughout the story. To that I thank innumerable websites. No disrespect intended if I tweaked things just a bit.**

**I have been inspired to create this story by so many fantastic writers found here in fandom. Some published and so many more who should be. Thank you!**

**To Siobhan Masen who has graciously given her time and knowledge for all things regarding writing and posting. Oh, and a wonderful pre-reader of this chapter. Thank You! Waaa Laaa!**

**To books-are-better, beta extraordinaire, who has shown me the value of tense, past, present and future. Thank You!**

**Prologue**

**Bella's POV**

I need to clear my head. So many thoughts are swirling about, trying to pull me under; not to mention the pain which has taken possession of my heart.

I decide to take a long walk into the fallow fields which used to produce some of the finest cotton ever grown. These fields were the main stay for our existence for so long, and now they're all gone as well. I look to the far side of the field with its hilly slopes. My eyes wander to the spot where we grew peanuts once upon a time. It too is barren and my heart is once again seized by an overwhelming ache.

So much emptiness now surrounds me; I feel the emptiness in the thousand plus acres of my family's plot. Emptiness from inside the great house. And most certainly I feel the emptiness for the people I loved and those who live here still, when this Plantation was the hub of our universe.

This emptiness is felt the deepest in my heart and head. Everything I know and love about this land is now gone; it is almost too much to comprehend. I just block out the unpleasant parts and keep going. I think this is why I am able to forge ahead.

It's spring time, a time for tilling the soil and planting. It's a time for life to begin anew; to flourish as it has for my family for two hundred years. And yet nothing is planted and nothing will be. As I continue my walk through the grasses and weeds trying to take over this untilled space, I notice a seedling attempting to grow.

A little cotton seedling, barely obtaining its true leaves, is trying to make its way through the life cycle to become a full fledge plant. It's an optimist in this barren landscape. My face curls into a grimace as I try to glean some reasoning behind the plant's stupidity. I reach down to pluck the insolent little seedling out of the soil, angry that it would taunt me. To remind me again of the happier times—the days when my family was whole and complete; when life was easy. I still my movements and scream at the seedling from inside my head: _How dare you?!_

I feel like Atlas struggling with the weight of the world, as if it resides on my shoulders. And in many ways it does here in my little corner of existence.

People are depending on me.

People are expecting me to make the right decisions.

It's too much!

I'm only eighteen; but age doesn't seem to matter to the land of the living. In fact, I'm learning time has a way of changing ones' life quickly.

Because suddenly, I feel so much older than the calendar says I am.

As I reach back to pluck the brazen little invader and toss it to the hard ground, my hand is stilled again. The similarity between me and this stubborn little plant strikes me as plain as day. I realize it's just trying to survive on its own, just like I'm trying to do. I stand back up again and gaze around as far as the eye can see. I gaze on the land which has been in my family for generations. My mind reels; how can I resent a seedling?

Barely surviving but surviving nonetheless. I should take a page from the seedling's book and fight. This is what I should do.

This is what I must do!

The wind picks up and my skirt flies over the little plant—bending it. Grabbing the material of my skirt and pushing it between my knees, I bend down once more. This time, I add extra dirt around the base to secure and strengthen it. I smile to myself for my juxtaposing ways. One minute I'm angry at the seedling and the next trying to help it grow. My life has become its own dichotomy.

I'm so confused, resentful, hurt, sad—the list is endless; such a myriad of emotions take over my mind.

As I stand back up, my thoughts drifts and I look to my home in the distance. I fool myself into believing I can actually hear my dad's voice. I remember him telling me these exact words time and time again from the front of the veranda or here in the fields, with a smile on his face: _remember Bella, if you treat the land with respect—work the soil, plant the seed and care for it—it will pay you back tenfold in return._ He would grab my shoulder, with a gentle squeeze, as he spoke those words to me. It was his litany. The gospel according to Charlie Swan—handed down to him from generations past.

Looking around at the now vastness of nothingness surrounding me, I hear those words and try to hold back the tears.

"It is not my fault, this is not my fault!" I yell to no one and no one answers. I feel the crushing weigh of pain on my heart and sink to the ground, grabbing handfuls of dirt and weeds. "This is not my fault," I repeat, whispering to myself.

I look to the sky. "Dad, tell me what to do? Please, just tell me what to do." But again, my words are met with silence. I let my head fall down to stare at the earth, my tears landing on the seedling and sinking into the dry earth.

After a time of letting the anguish win its war on my emotions, I'm left empty of tears. I wipe my hands of soil on my dirty skirt, and remove the remaining tears from my face with my fingers, dropping one last tear on the seedling. It was probably my imagination—I'm sure of it—but I swear that seedling stood a little taller. I see my dad's smile in my mind's eye and feel his touch on my shoulder in comfort.

Straightening once again, I look around the barren fields, and then to my home again. I still have Alice; she needs to listen to me and help me make a plan. Then there's Emmett, who has stayed on with us so far, trying to help us survive. Sweet Rosalie, who wants a life just as the rest of us. Dear Mrs. Cope—she too has remained with us. Seth and Leah have been a blessing in disguise; parentless one month earlier then Alice and I. They continue to endeavor and show a great sense of character to help as well. All of us orphaned in one way or another but together we are surviving. We are a motley group.

With a new resolve and purpose in my step, I start for home. I will do my father and mother proud, along with the ones before us and the rest who still reside here, I think to myself. "No, we will make them proud. All of us will. Nothing is going keep us down again," I say aloud to no one. But somehow, I feel like this time I'm heard, as a wave of wellbeing for the first time, in a long time, fills my soul.

It's time to start respecting my forefathers, my home, and the land.


	2. A little bit of Swan History

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the major characters. There will be bits of history throughout the story. To that I thank innumerable websites. No disrespect intended if I tweaked things just a bit.**

**I have been inspired to create this story by so many fantastic writers found here in fandom. Some published and so many more who should be. Thank you!**

**To Siobhan Masen who has graciously given her time and knowledge for all things regarding writing and posting. Oh, and a wonderful pre-reader of this chapter. Thank You! Waaa Laaa!**

**To books-are-better, beta extraordinaire, who has shown me the value of tense, past, present and future. Thank You!**

**Chapter 1 **

**A Little Bit of Swan History**

**Bella**

A Swan has lived in what was originally known as an English Colony of Savannah, Georgia, since 1733. At the time, the homes were crude cabins and the land was vast with no fence lines to show property division. A man would pace off his claim for miles and miles and simply pound a stake into the ground to mark his territory and boarders. This land offered freshwater springs and hot springs. Creeks, rivers and marshlands, with the ocean less than a day or so ride either by horse, raft or boat.

Of course, it took the City of Savannah a few years to grow. But grow it did. It started from a little meeting place for social or religious gatherings and trading purposes, to a hamlet, to a town and then a full fledge city.

The earliest Swan settler had been a farmer in England. Eric brought with him his wife, Alethea and their two growing children, a son Evan and daughter Ashley. Along with farming equipment and seed, he brought an ox, two milk cows and a pregnant pig. He didn't know the sow was pregnant but was able sell half the litter to other settlers on board the ship. He turned his first profit as soon as his foot touched the soil of the New England, in the land of America.

He and his family took this as a good sign that their new home land would be just that—a new home, in a new land, with amazing possibilities.

We know about this history because of the journals stored in the library of our home.

As the years passed, the original home was rebuilt and expanded. Today, our home sits on a top of a rise and is a superb specimen of a two story ranch style house. It's truly beautiful, painted white with blue shutters, facing the east. There are five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and two sitting rooms upstairs. Downstairs is a front parlor, library, office, a guest bedroom, bathroom, dining room, a large kitchen with a bedroom off the side, which our housekeeper Mrs. Cope uses.

A large veranda surrounds the front of the house, held up by six large pillars. It stretches from one end to the other; it's used regularly for relaxing and enjoying family and friends, after a long days' work in the fields. I enjoy sitting out here early in the morning, greeting the day as I watch the sun rise. Alice enjoys the evening view when the sun sets behind the house with the changing colors of the sky; she says the colors changes with the season.

I think the changes in the season come from the view in the distance from the veranda. Currently, its autumn with row upon row of cotton balls waving in the breeze as far as the eye can see. Winter time when the fields are resting and cleared of the previous year's growth, you can fully see the vastness of our land stretching for miles. Springtime brings the freshly plowed soil and the beginnings of new life and growth.

Summertime is the growing season with the activities of man, birds and insects completing the cycle. To me the succession of views is mesmerizing.

Off the back porch from the kitchen are the smoke house and the original water well. The home now has plumbing but the well reminds us of how far we've come. As children we loved to work the crank and bring up the bucket with the fresh cool water from the underground spring.

Other improvements include sheds in various locations for equipment and tools needed. A large barn, used to store feed and hay for the livestock. There is also a Carriage House which was also the stable; we know longer have a stable full of horses. We have only two which my father Charlie uses when checking the fields with his foreman.

There's an old carriage which still resides in one corner of the Carriage House. Alice and I can't bear for our parents to get rid of. Built in the 1890's, it is very elaborate with brass coach lamps, full-size beveled glass doors, elegant door handles, and a silk interior with shades; it seats four comfortably. Alice and I have spent many hours playing in the carriage pretending to be grand ladies attending the opera or the carriage taking us away from our future weddings.

Now the Carriage House also holds a 1921 Buick - four door convertible automobile along with a work truck. Sure the automobile gets you to where you want to go faster but we enjoy the glamour of the carriage.

Yes, this land has seen many changes throughout the years. The people who have lived on it, have survived the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812 and the Civil War; so much blood, sweat and tears have been lost here, draining into this soil. Not only of the Swan men and women but of the men and women hired to work it. Yes, this land has seen and lived a history of a family who has always survived.

**H~~H**

As children, Alice my younger sister by sixteen months and I have grown up listening to the oral history and have read the family journals. We have grown up always understanding we are the legacy of a family rich in history.

But we have also changed the family history. We are the first Swan family to never have a male heir.

The first born through countless generations all the way from the first, have always been males. This was until the day I was born. Now mind you, I have always been loved and blessed with two of the greatest parents a child could have, but I did change the history. Or maybe it was my mother, Renee. She was the first Swan wife never to have any siblings.

Alice and I loved hearing their story, from their first meeting to their wedding—and having us. I can recall it word by word; I've heard it so many times, and it's written for posterity in part of a Swan journal dated 1902 to 1917:

**H~~H**

Miss Renee's family had only just moved to the Savannah area as she had grown up in New York City. Her father was a business man but was tired of all the hustle bustle of the big city and wanted a quieter life for his wife and daughter. He was a wealthy man who wanted to try his hand at running a plantation. Uprooting his family, they settled in the outskirts of Savannah on a small little farm on the southern border of Swan lands.

Miss Renee was a beauty even then. With her thick reddish brown hair in long pigtails, azure blue eyes and smooth porcelain skin, wearing a pretty new dress for her first day in a new school.

When my father Charlie first saw Renee his only thought was: She's an angel. He saw her as she was being chased around by a larger boy, one bully by the name of William Black. It was obvious to Charlie that Billy Black already had a crush on Miss Renee as he had known Billy all his life. He could understand why Billy had his crush. Looking at her instantly made Charlie's heart beat a little faster.

Billy Black's family had a large plantation which was settled on the northern boundaries of the Swan Plantation and grew tobacco. Billy was confident to the point of arrogance and if he wasn't given what he wanted—he would take it. This was the same attitude he learned from his father, Master Black as he preferred to be called.

My father was a quiet, fair, honest and hard-working young man—both in school and at home. He had been raised with two moral codes which he lived by. The first being: to be thankful with what you have, and the second: if you take care of the land, your home and the people in your life, then they will take care of you. To Charlie's way of thinking, there wasn't much more he could ever want.

Charlie continued to watch Billy as he kept pulling on my mother's pigtails and taunting her. Billy was trying to rile her up and Charlie was both amazed and amused. Instead of crying, as most girls would or going to tell the teacher, this beautiful, spunky girl would try to swing her fists and fight off Billy Black.

Billy would laugh, as he kept pulling on her hair, taunting her more by saying, "You're such a weak, little girl. You'll never be able to hit me."

My father had enough. As far as he was concerned, Billy was just plain ornery and needed to be taught a lesson. The school bell was rung and all the kids headed into the school house, Charlie waited at the door. As soon as Miss Renee entered, he grabbed her hand and led her to one of the double desks in the back.

Wanting to be away from Billy Black, Miss Renee easily complied.

When she seated herself, she turned to give her thanks to the boy who rescued her, but her sentence caught in her throat and she just stared.

The attraction was instant. This boy is as handsome as the day is long, she thought to herself. Her eyes wandered from his dark hair to eyes the color of milk chocolate, then to the straight nose, a smooth strong jaw and then she ended her perusal by staring at his mouth that was simply made for smiling; his lower lip a little larger than the top and she knew in an instant, she wanted her first kiss to come from those lips.

To say that Billy was livid at Charlie was an understatement. He knew immediately he had a rival for the affections of Miss Renee. It wasn't the first time either. All the girls seemed to gravitate to Charlie and Billy never understood it. The boy was too quiet, and as far as he was concerned stupid and not as good looking as him.

When my mother faced forward, she caught Billy's glare. He is just a black haired, black eyed and probably black hearted boy, she thought to herself. She just smiled sweetly and waved bye-bye to the angry boy.

Charlie, chuckling quietly, asked, "Are you all right? My name is Charlie, Charlie Swan by the way." He never used his full name of Charles M. Swan III. He felt it was too pretentious.

Miss Renee shrugged her shoulders as she was still miffed with Billy Black and flustered by the boy sitting next to her.

Charlie pulled out his pencil and a piece of paper and wrote to her instead, asking if she wanted his help in getting back at Billy? A devilish glint filled her eyes as she gave him a firm nod of her head. Then she leaned toward Charlie and whispered in his ear, "My name is Renee by the way."

"Miss Renee, it's nice to meet you." Charlie said lifting his hand to shake hers.

She took his hand, shook it firmly and said, "Renee, not Miss Renee."

Again, Charlie chuckled quietly. My father said she was spunky and he liked it, he liked it very much.

They worked together and made a plan and when the teacher dismissed the class for the lunch recess. Charlie and Renee ran out of the back door of the school house and headed for the rear of the building where the boys mostly hung out. Charlie leaned against the corner of the building, so his back would be visible from the front side of the school.

Billy Black exited the school house and not seeing Renee where all the other girls usually gathered, finally saw the back of Charlie. There was no way in his mind that Charlie was competition for the lovely, Miss Renee. Billy wandered up behind Charlie trying to hear who he was talking to.

Billy asks, "What 'cha doin Charlie?"

Charlie turned only his head to Billy answering, "Just getting a little bit of fresh air with a couple of the guys."

Billy kept trying to look in front Charlie and Harry, Charlie's best friend who now stood next to Charlie as if creating a human wall, but he couldn't see if Miss Renee was there or not. Charlie and Harry just kept moving so he couldn't really see over or around them.

Billy started getting frustrated and was about to push Charlie out of the way to get a better view, when one of his knees gave out from someone hitting the back of it. As he was teetering, he turned to see who would dare to try to take him down, when he was suddenly hit in the jaw, by none other than little Miss Renee.

He went down on both knees, yelling in pain. Miss Renee with her fist still closed the way Charlie told her, again punched him— this time in the eye.

Down Billy went on his back, to the hoots and hollering of the many boys, witnessing the event.

Billy was shocked. Then he was furious. How dare she show him up in front of all these boys? He was William Black and no one treats him like this. Billy got up, pulled his fist back, ready to hit Miss Renee, when Charlie grabbed his arm to prevent the hit. All the boys who had witnessed Billy's earlier behavior, stood in front of her, in a protective half circle with Charlie in the lead.

"Are you going to try to hit a girl?" Charlie quietly asked, but threateningly. Well, as threatening as one can sound at the age of twelve.

Billy, letting his anger take control, snidely asks Charlie, "Do you want to take her punishment instead?"

"If you think you can." Charlie shrugged.

Now, Charlie is a wiry young man; just as tall Billy, but not bulked up like he is. But to Charlie's way of thinking, bulk slows you down in the end. Billy braced himself and threw his massive fist at Charlie's face, but Charlie just bobbed out of the way. Billy swung again and Charlie dipped away.

Now, Billy is out of control with rage, blinding him, as he charged at Charlie. Charlie side stepped him and brought his locked fisted hands down on back of Billy's neck. Billy went down, sprawled on the ground. Charlie bent down, and with one knee on Billy's back said, "Enough."

Billy's yelling and swearing rang all around the school yard. Upon hearing the commotion, the teacher arrived to the back of the school house, trying to find out what was going on. Before Charlie could get in trouble, Renee explained what happened and why. The witnesses all concur from the hair pulling to Renee's revenge; to Billy's threats and attack on Charlie. Needless to say, Billy got suspended.

Master Black was so humiliated that Billy was first bested by a girl and then by the Swan boy, he brought in a private tutor, instead of sending him back to the school house. Everyone at school was happy with that bit of news and celebrated it with cupcakes the next day, which Renee brought.

From that day forward, my father and mother became best friends, boyfriend and girlfriend, then man and wife at the ages of 19 and 18 respectively in 1909.

**H~~H**

On September 13, 1915, Renee gave birth at the age of 25 to a little squalling dark hair girl. Me. They had tried for years to conceive, so when it was first known Renee was with child, the whole Plantation looked forward to a little one in the house. To say the Swan household was stunned by the arrival of a little girl, was an understatement. No one more than my parents.

A boy was expected! That's the way it's always been!

But, my father laughed with joy. He didn't worry about not having a male heir. He looked at his new baby girl, and thought I was the most beautiful little girl he'd ever seen, even though I may resemble him. But he could tell that I took after my mother in character, and knowing Renee's strength of mind, heart and will, he wouldn't change a thing.

He smiled at his wife, as she nursed his impatient tiny girl; all the while I was holding tight to my father's little finger as he said, "She has your traits, my love. I can feel it. What shall we name her?"

Smiling down at her little bundle of joy, Renee whispered, "She reminds me of a queen, already so demanding and regal. What do you think about the name of Isabella? I always admired Queen Isabella's forward thinking."

Charlie's grin couldn't have been larger. "Isabella, Bella for short. It means beautiful in Italian, you know. She's strong—won't let go of my finger—forward thinking, and beautiful. It's perfect. Can she have my mother's name of Marie for her middle name?"

Renee, gazing down at her little Isabella Marie Swan, thought about the initials of I M Swan. How appropriate. You are a Swan, she thought to herself. Looking up to her husband with happy tears in her eyes, was all Charlie needed to see.

"I love you Renee Swan. Thank you for my daughter." He bent to kiss her soft lips with misty eyes of his own.

**H~~H**

As time went by, it's been told time and again, it was a constant race to keep up and track of me once I mastered the art of walking at nine months. Walking immediately led to running, climbing and hiding.

Along with these actions, cause and effect occurred. Falling from table tops, chairs, shelves, stairs, curtains— you name it. I flourished in the world of conquering and mastering these objects. They were my mountains I had to climb.

I was rarely injured nor did I ever cry. Instead, with a look of determination crossing my brow, a look of resolve in my chocolate colored eyes, just like Charlie's, I would study said mountain I fell from for a moment before trying again and again, until it was conquered. Then I would move on to my next quest.

Of course, anyone in the vicinity would try to prevent any of this from happening, but this would only increase my need to dominate whatever obstacle was in my way.

Mrs. Cope, with a twinkle in her light blue eyes and round face, would call me her "little she devil." Everyone knew that to try to thwart me was just asking for trouble.

My mother loved the attention I would give when I was being read to. I would change instantly from the hyper 'little she devil' to the most docile child—if I was being read to.

She believes me to be incredibly intelligent, because I learned to express myself at a very early age and could ask simple questions regarding any story read to me. When I was only twelve months, often, after a book was read to me, I would take the book and study it as if I was reading.

By sixteen months I had simple stories memorized and knew the words by heart reciting them with my mother. My parents said it was as if I was a sponge and absorbed everything.

**H~~H**

On January 14, 1917, a new little girl was welcomed into the Swan household, born with her deep brown, almost black hair and eyes so blue, they were sure to remain and look like Renee's azure blue ones.

She was first named for Renee's mother, Mary Brandon Swan. When I first saw my little sister I was in awe of her but didn't say anything. She was so beautiful I couldn't take my eyes off her. I just sat silently on the side of the bed next to my mom and baby sister.

Charlie asked, "What are you thinking about there, so quietly, Bella?"

I looked up from this new baby girl to my daddy, "Alice," I said.

"Alice? You want to call her Alice?" Daddy asked me and I nodded.

Renee chuckled quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping infant. Charlie was still trying to understand me, so he asked, "Why do you want to call her Alice?"

I looked back to the baby and said "Because she is curiouser and curiouser! Just like Alice in Wonderland. I can't figure out how to play with her!"

To say both parents were amused and amazed by my thoughts, was a given, and after several long minutes of laughter, Mary had a new name added. Mary Alice Brandon Swan and to me, Alice was perfect.

**H~~H**

I never get tired of hearing the story of our parent's love and our births.


	3. The Sisters Swan

**Disclaimer:Stephenie Meyer owns the major characters. There will be bits of history throughout the story. To that I thank innumerable websites. No disrespect/misuse intended if I tweaked things just a bit.**

**I have been inspired to create this little ditty by so many fantastic writers found here in fandom. Some published and so many more who should be. Thank you!**

**To books-are-better, beta extraordinaire, who unbeknownst to her, is making me a better writer. Thank You!**

**Chapter 2 **

**The Sisters Swan**

**Bella**

Time has a way of moving on and moving on it does.

Alice and I are best friends, yet so completely different. From the very beginning we have always been well of aware of our strengths and our weaknesses. However, there has never been any competition between the two of us. In fact, we use our differences for the betterment of each other, always being comfortable allowing the other to compliment what each of us lacked.

In looks, I'm taller than Alice and not just because I am older. She is so little, I don't honestly think she will be over five foot tall. I have a body which is more muscular from running around the fields all day and my complexion is butter cream colored, or as Renee says, "Is kissed by the sun." Alice has a porcelain skin tone and lithe body, which she inherited from Renee.

Whereas my hair is thick, long and brown with a deep red color hidden until the sun shines directly on it, Alice takes after Grandma Brandon with fine jet black hair.

I have Charlie's sleepy or bedroom chocolate colored eyes and Alice's are a roundish almond shaped beautiful azure.

Then there is the difference in our personalities. I have this uncontrollable thirst for knowledge. There is not a book or newspaper I can't help but pick up and read. I've learned at an early age accounting skills and record keeping from our Grandpa Brandon.

Alice can't resist looking at each page of a Sears Catalog for home decorating ideas or fashion magazines. If she is going to read for pleasure, it's to memorize the history of our family from the journals in the library or the classic romances such as Romeo and Juliet or Jane Austen novels.

We both learned early how to bake breads, cook a full meal and put up jars of jams and jellies and canned fruits and vegetables. I, however, enjoy making my own butter and cheese the old fashioned way with a churner. Alice can create the most scrumptious cakes and pastries. These skills we learned from our Grandma Brandon. Sure you could buy those things in town, but why would we when we're able to make our own.

From our mother, we learned the fine art of needle work and dress making. This is becoming a lost art for many of the young ladies in town, what with all the stores popping up with ready-made dresses and other garments. But, it's surprisingly gratifying to be able to repair or replace clothes using your own hands. Believe me when I say this, Alice has a favorite dress which she's been able to keep in shape for years because she refuses to give it up. That's Alice though through and through.

She treasures her dolls and stuffed animals and I know she will pass them on to her own little ones. Alice can repair anything from toys, clothing, and tears in furniture upholstery. She just has the talent to make the old look new.

From Mrs. Cope, we know how to make windows sparkle by using vinegar and water and how to polish furniture by using beeswax. Nothing brings out the beauty of wood furniture more than being polished by beeswax. We have beehives way back by one of the hot springs where we can collect honey and make the beeswax using the honeycomb. Mrs. Cope taught us how to use smoke by using damp wood. It keeps the bees at bay while we pillage their hives. We never remove too much at a time, since we want the bees to remain and pollinate the fields.

Mrs. Cope also taught us how to make toothpaste from baking soda and how to remove stains by using soda water. We clean paintings that hang on the walls of our home by using a mixture of ¼ cup hydrogen peroxide and ¾ cup of water, then dabbing at the painting with a sponge to remove the soot and ash which accumulates from regular use of the fireplaces. She has a wealth of information that we eagerly learn.

But it is the farming knowledge I have learned from my dad that is my favorite. My father, Charlie always tells me things like: _"You know, Bella, you could lose everything on these grounds, from our home, to everything inside and the harvest. But as long as there are people willing to work hard, the land will give it all back to you,"_ and I try hard to follow his instructions. As long as I have my family and this land, my life is good and we will go on. I understand the land will see us through and I love this land.

We have an area behind our house for the family garden as well; all of us work in it. Growing our own produce and herbs is my favorite past time. Getting my hands in the soil, weeding, planting, watering, hoeing and picking from our garden, gives me a sense of pride and accomplishment. Alice prefers the collecting of eggs, feeding the chickens and livestock and milking the cows to the gardening—which is fine by me.

Like I said, we're very different, but it works to our advantage.

Whereas I'm learning the land, Alice loves the history. All the stories of how various heirlooms in the home have come into being, seems magical to her. When you live in a home that has been around for a couple hundred years, it collects many objects. Some no longer useful, some things pretty and some things will grab your attention again and again. I think Alice can give you every detail from the second it was created, by whom, and how it came to being here. She's amazing that way.

The most noticeable traits of difference between Alice and I, is the way we interacted with other people. I'm the thinker and like to watch people, and Alice is the one who enjoys socializing.

Alice, some describe as serene in nature with a dreamers faraway look in her eyes. She has a way about her—she instinctually knows when someone isn't happy or feeling unwell. She can almost see inside someone, to their very soul, and know what they need right at that time.

Whether it's a joke she will share to create laughter or a hug to make someone feel better, Alice just knows.

Her easy going personality and joy for life, makes it effortless for both guys and girls to tell Alice everything they're thinking, either for advice or opinion. Alice isn't one to withhold a smile.

This easy way Alice has with people has always eluded me. I never start a conversation with anyone other than my family. I'm not shy, per se, just more reserved. I guess you could say when asked a question, I take my time answering to make sure I get my point across the first time with a minimal amount of words. I don't like to repeat myself.

I think I have too much Charlie in me whereas Alice is exuberant like Renee.

The only time I get nervous around people is when a boy stares at me too long or I'm around Jacob Black; he always sends a cold chill down my spine. I panic at lingering glances. I start to wonder if my finger nails have dirt under them or there's something on my nose, under my eyes, by my mouth or if there is something wrong with my clothes. In other words, I start to fidget.

Alice always laughs at me during these times. "You over think everything. You should take it as a compliment. They're showing that they're interested in you," she'll playfully sigh.

Since our first school year together, we have been the other's shadow. Some kids get annoyed with us because we act more like twins then siblings, and they don't get alone time with one or the other of us.

"Aren't siblings supposed to argue and get on one another's nerves?" Jessica Stanley has asked. _Not us two._

We enjoyed our talks at home about the other kids who are close to our age and some of the shenanigans we've observed. We find it interesting how some of their attitudes are shaping up and changing into what we like to call 'their grownup persona's to be.'

We have categories we put the kids in and it's amazing how none have moved from it since the first time we put them their particular little groupings. There are ones that will one day be someone, ones who want to be our friends and ones who never will be. Then we have the special category of the ones to watch out for.

In our friends' category, there is Rosalie Hale, who is by far the most beautiful girl in our area and quite possibly the whole state. Even at the age of eight. She is so pretty, with thick wavy blond hair, china blue eyes and skin so smooth with a peaches-and-cream complexion. I can easily see her as a model or movie star someday. She's also one of the nicest girls around.

Alice and I enjoy being friends with her, and I think it's because we didn't put her up on a pedestal the first time we met her or tried hard to be her friend; it just came naturally. Or maybe because we never tried to use her to make friends with the other kids, like most all the guys and girls do. She's smart, quick witted and has an easy going nature to those who know her. Her father works for Royce King's father, who owns the biggest bank in Savannah.

Then there is Angela Weber, who has short dark hair and soft brown eyes. She is the Reverend's daughter and is such a sweet and caring person—you can't help but want to spend time with her. She is quiet like me, but definitely more outgoing: she's funny and doesn't have a 'holier than thou' attitude, considering her father is all about 'Hail and brimstone.'

Ben Cheney, one of the only boys we count as a friend, is good looking boy with light brown hair and grey eyes. He is the son of a teacher at the high school level. He's a very smart and even tempered boy who knows what he's good at and doesn't try to be anything different.

Then there are those who seem to want to be our friends but we keep them at a distance:

Royce King, a very handsome young man, with brown hair and light blue eyes; but he is an arrogant, spoilt child and has been his whole life.

Jessica Stanley, the daughter of lawyer, with her wavy brown hair and hazel eyes; she would make a dream couple with Royce for the way they think of themselves and treat other people. And finally, there is Lauren Mallory. She has silky blond hair and blue eyes which make her look like an angel—but that's before she opens her mouth. Holy smokes, the screeching way she speaks is like nails on a chalk board. Her father is an owner of one of the largest cotton mills in the area.

Needless to say, we are not keen on Royce, Jessica or Lauren. We're polite and friendly enough, but neither Alice nor I can see ourselves as friends with them. However, they only want to be friends with us because of our relationship with Rosalie. Friends-by-association is not something we want; it doesn't sound like true friendship at all.

Now, our never-to-be-friends with list is rather long for various reasons.

Mike Newton, dirty blonde and blue eyed, is the son of a local grocer, class clown and just annoying. He seems to thrive at teasing and irritating me; he bothers everyone, but I seem to be his target of choice. Trying to get me to either talk or yell at him has been his goal since we were five, but to this day, I remain mute just for him alone.

Alice has always told me, "He's just like Billy Black, Bella. Don't wear pigtails!" and it took me until this year to figure out what she what she meant.

But I don't take what she says to heart, and just roll my eyes and tell her, "Alice, he doesn't like me."

But she doesn't believe me. She just looks at me and says, "You don't see how beautiful you are."

"No, I'm not. You are—so he should be annoying you."

She just sticks her tongue out at me. She has a wicked sense of humor.

Next on the list is Tyler Crowley, a red headed, blue eyed, freckle face henchman for all of Mike's little jokes. He is actually a smart boy, but for some reason he is Mike's lap dog. His father works as a butcher and is a very solemn man who never seems to smile. Maybe this is why he likes Mike—he needs humor in his life.

Eric Yorkie, dark haired with light brown eyes, is the son of a railroad conductor who will constantly question everything and anything someone says. The only thing he seems to be sure about is his crush on Alice—which he has had for two years. Other than his crush, it's like he's afraid of his own shadow.

The one we watch out for the most is Jacob Black. Everything about him is dark: jet black hair, black eyes and brown skinned. He's considered handsome by some, but when I look in his eyes, I feel like I am looking at nothing but darkness.

Even though we're close neighbors and our fathers grew up together, there's just something about him which is bothersome. Almost like there's a dark side to him—just like his name. He is a big brute of a boy, who has no problem starting fights and finishing them. Everyone seems to be afraid of him and the rumors surrounding his family, even after two decades.

H~~H

The story goes, in the late winter of 1898, a fire had destroyed the fields and family home of the Clearwater's, with most of the family inside of the home. This is property that Master Black had tried to buy several times over. Its prime land for growing tobacco and Master Black coveted it. When the smoke cleared and the ash settled, it wasn't long until the Blacks' were the new owners of said land and raising the last remaining Clearwater heir.

Young Harry Clearwater happened to have been staying overnight with Charlie that fateful night. The boys had spent a full day of fishing and catching frogs. They were awaken early the next morning by Charlie's father, exhausted and smelling of smoke, as he explained about the fire.

Harry was the only surviving family member. He didn't have any other relatives to take him in.

Harry stayed with the Swan's and Charlie's parents organized the funeral for Harry's parents and younger sister Elena. Harry was devastated as anyone would be. The Swan's tried to comfort the young boy as best they could. He was like Charlie's brother in many ways.

Master Black rushed the investigators to complete their findings so he could get his hands on the land. About a month after the fire, Master Black was the proud owner of the Clearwater property. The authorities were unable to fully understand how the fire started and didn't have conclusive evidence that Master Black was responsible. Some say he paid off fire investigators to not delve closely into the cause.

There was a loan on the property, which was paid off, but without an actual home on the land, it was purchased at pennies to the dollar, with very little money remaining for Harry from the sale.

Charlie's parents offered to take him in. Master Black, being magnanimous, insisted since he was now the owner of the land, it fell as his responsibility to take care of Harry. "It's the least I could do," he stated. "Besides, he'll make a good playmate for my son, Billy." Billy was seven at the time.

Charlie's parents demanded Harry's inheritance be put into a trust for Harry until he turned 18 years of age. They still had suspensions that Master Black was responsible for the fire and didn't have confidence in him to take care of Harry's funds.

The rubble was cleared away far too quickly in some people's opinion and a new home was in the process of being built. The tobacco fields were planted and within six months, a new home was built in the Victorian Style, with all traces of the original Clearwater Plantation—erased. The fire still remains a mystery today.

H~~H

We enjoy the company of Seth and Leah Clearwater, Harry's children. Seth and his sister Leah both have dark hair and hazel eyes and are wonderful would-be friends. Unfortunately, when we're in school or at some social gathering and Jacob is around, he will take over any conversation we may have with them, effectively cutting us off. I think he tries to punish Alice and me for not talking to him.

When Seth and Leah's father, Harry, turned eighteen, he took the money from his trust and built a small home right alongside the Black's property and ours when he met Sue, a friend of Renee's in high school. Charlie's dad had offered him a job working on the Swan Plantation because he thought of Harry as a son, but Harry was given the position of Foreman Assistant for the Black's. It was more money than the Swans could offer him, but he told Charlie on the side, "I want to keep a close eye on the Black's."

Harry and Charlie still believe Master Black was responsible for the fire, which took Harry's family, but the saying, 'keep your friends close but your enemies' closer,' is a motto I believe Harry lives by.

Seth and Leah lost their mother when she was birthing a third child; both she and the child died. They were buried together as Mother and Child Clearwater, the sex of the child never revealed. Harry sold their home to Mr. Black when he became Foreman. He needed the funds to hire a woman to take care of the young Seth and Leah. He refused to impose on Renee, who argued it would be no imposition, but Harry is a proud man and wouldn't accept the offer.

What we don't like, is when Seth is just with Jacob, Jacob seems to enjoy ordering him around like a slave. Seth being a good natured boy lets it slide, but Alice and I think there is more depth to Seth then he lets on.

What bothers me the most is I constantly catch Jacob staring at me with a calculating smirk on his face, and the older I get, the more worrisome it becomes. He just makes me utterly uncomfortable.

Alice tells me I have nothing to fear. Charlie would never force him on me, but Billy Black has made more than one comment such as, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if Isabella and Jacob grow up and unite our two families?" or "If our two properties were joined, we would be the largest in the area and no one would be able to compete with us!"

The shiver that crawls over my skin when he says these things, makes me feel as if I've walked over someone's grave. I don't want to think about Jacob like that—_at all_.


	4. Boll Weevils, Goodbyes and Welcomes

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**To books-are-better, beta extraordinaire, who writes popular stories based on The Hunger Games. Check them out!**

**And finally, I have received PM's curious to know the following. A: Currently, I am writing chapter 23 and figure I'm 85% complete. B: I will post weekly on Saturdays. C: It may be moving slow but I want to introduce characters so they can grow up before your eyes and see what they saw. D: They're almost there.**

**Thank you for the encouraging PM's and reviews. You all are so welcoming in my endeavor to write a story. A shout out to Savage7289, if you have read her stories, (if not you really should) you'll know why.**

**Chapter 3 **

**Boll Weevils, Goodbyes and Welcomes**

**Years 1923 to 1925**

**Bella**

Life is not always easy growing up on the plantation. When the boll weevil came to call, in the early 1920's, they didn't just knock on the door like polite company. No, they busted it down and took over the place.

1923 was the first year the little bug came a calling to our land. Though they're only about a quarter of an inch in size, these little destroyers took with them about an eighth of our cotton crop. And the next year, it was worse, as they ruined more than a quarter of the crop.

But my father Charlie is a smart man. He said, "It's not the land that's taking the crop, it's the visitor. So you have to make the visitor as unwelcomed as possible."

He noticed the boll weevil didn't infest the cotton planted in the wetter areas—close to the marsh lands. So he thinks maybe the boll weevils hide in the winter time in well-drained or dryer soil.

During the fall and winter, he was a man on a mission, as he plowed up the soil where the boll weevil had attacked our crops. Then twice again in the spring, trying to unbalance their hibernation if that is possible. And then he planted, for the first time, peanuts and corn in the dryer soil.

When you grow up knowing all the different stages of a cotton plant so well you can practically set your clock to it, to all of a sudden see the low lying peanut bushes on one side and then the tall lanky corn stocks on the other, instead of cotton, it takes a young mind some time getting used to. About a fourth of the planting acres were now peanuts and corn combined. But to my way of thinking, my father Charlie is a genius.

Even after the infestation, so many farmers in the area continued to only grow cotton, year after year, only to have the boll weevil destroy their entire crop over and again. I admire the steadfast nature of these farmers, their need to continue to grow what they know, however the times do call for diversifying. I can't help the pride I feel for my father and the lessons I continue to learn.

H~~H

It's early January of 1925, Grandpa Brandon has had enough farming, after fighting, "the insolent little irritants," as he calls them, for the past two years. He has signed his land over to Charlie and told him to do with it what he wants. He and Grandma are moving back to New York wanting a little more excitement then dealing with an insect. They've packed up only their personal belonging as they're renting a small apartment in the city.

They miss New York with the stage plays and symphonies performed in Central Park. This is not to say Savannah didn't offer plays and symphonies, but to them New York is just bigger and better. I think Grandpa has started to miss the 'hustle and bustle' which originally brought them here in the first place.

Alice and I are going to miss them something fierce. For as long as I can remember, we've had standing dates on Friday nights with our grandparents. We play cards or games but what we enjoy most—is the music. So many nights we sit by the fire, or on their front porch, looking at the stars while listening to the gramophone. They have all kinds of music from jazz, marching bands to symphonies that play on the 'talking machine'. But my favorite songs right now are, 'Yes, We Have No Bananas' or 'The Bow Wow Blues.'

My grandparents are actually both talented musicians themselves. Grandpa plays the guitar, and he taught me how to play as well. There's something soothing to me about strumming the chords, and I've truly taken a liking to it. Grandma plays the piano, which Alice took to with such ease and lightness—her fingers seem to dance on the keys. We also play around with other instruments they have in their music room; I enjoy playing the harmonica and Alice loves the kazoo.

We've had so many good memories, playing or listening to music together, but I remember a night a while back fondly. We decided for each of us would play one type of music; Grandma played a classical piano piece, Grandpa played a country ballad on the guitar, I played a jazz song on the harmonica and Alice played a Dixieland band piece on the kazoo. We held in the laughter for about fifteen seconds the first time around, but it soon failed. We kept trying until about an hour later, we made it through our entire songs. When we finished, we must have laughed a good half hour about how horrible, but wonderful it was.

In Alice and my sitting room, we now have our own little collection of instruments. We each have a guitar, harmonica, snare and bongo drums—and of course a kazoo. I also play around on the violin/fiddle depending on my mood, and Alice has a cello; there's also a piano in the parlor downstairs.

Every night at home or here with our grandparents there is music. The talent of playing music has always eluded my parents so they are immensely entertained by the little concerts Alice and I perform sometimes.

My parents can sing though. My mother, Renee, has a beautiful soprano voice, so delicate and light while Charlie with his deep bass voice compliments hers so well. Alice has Renee's clear and crisp voice, so lovely for one so young. But I, on the other hand, have Charlie's low voice. Grandma calls it sultry, Alice says it's mesmerizing—but I call it masculine. I love to sing though, so I work with what I was given.

As those happy memories flitted through my mind, Alice and I watch from the front porch of their home, as my grandparents load the last of their things in the back seat of their 1923 Cadillac Coupe. As far as vehicles go, it's classy.

We're trying to be strong. I'm not one for crying, I honestly can't remember a time I ever have. It's not that I don't feel things, I do, but I have never been one to wear my emotions on my sleeve.

Alice is a different story all together. She lets everyone know exactly how she feels, and right now she feels like she is losing part of her family. Which in a way, I guess we are. Grandpa comes over and sits between the two of us, pulling us to him and giving us both big hugs.

"Now I expect a letter from each one of you, once a month, so you can keep me in the know as to how your schooling is going. I want to hear all about your grades and friends. And I want detailed descriptions so it will be just like I'm still here seeing you both all the time," he quietly demands.

To which Alice replied, "What about you? Are you going to write us back?"

"Of course I'm going to write you back! I'll tell you all about the shows and plays we see, about the symphonies we attend. And then when you both get a little older, you will come and stay with Grandma and me for a summer. How does that sound?" He smiles at the both of us.

I smile and look from Grandpa to Alice, thinking of the excitement that awaited us in New York someday. All the stories they have told us about the city makes it seem like such a magical place.

But, when my eyes reach Alice and I see the sadness which dwells there, I smile at our Grandpa, answering for the both of us, "We can't wait! We'll have so much fun."

Grandma comes over then, and Alice shoots off the porch to hug her tight. They have a special bond, what with her being Alice's namesake and all. Grandma hugs and walks with her back to where Grandpa and I are sitting. The two of us stand, and all four of us hug together.

"Now, I expect you two to behave for your parents. They love you almost as much as we do," my Grandma laughs lightly. She winks at me—Alice's face still buried in her stomach.

Once again, I respond for the two of us, seeing as Alice is beside herself with sorrow, "Of course we will. We always do."

"I know you do, sweetheart. I'm going to miss the two of you so very much," she cheerfully replies as best she can—tears in her eyes.

Our parents come from inside the house and give Grandpa and Grandma their hugs goodbye. They finally move away from us and back to their car. Alice wraps her arms around Renee while Charlie rests one arm around my shoulders, the other around Renee's waist, hugging us both. I'm sure this might be the saddest of family portraits—_of all time._

As Grandpa opens the passenger side door for Grandma, they both stop and look at all of us. "Oh girls, we left you a little going away gift." Grandpa says with a smile. Grandma is waiting with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. We both look up at them in curiosity.

"Now we know how much you enjoy our Friday nights, listening to the gramophone. So, we're giving it to you, along with all of the records. From now on, every Friday night you must play it and think of us, as we'll be thinking of you." Grandpa said.

Alice and I first look at each other in shock, then up to our parents smiling faces, and back to each other again. We race back across the drive and practically tackled both our Grandparents to the ground. Alice is laughing and crying at the same time, but I'm just laughing and hooting and bursting with joy.

H~~H

In late January of 1925, Alice receives a belated birthday gift from our Grandparents. It's a recording of the song "Happy Birthday to You." Our grandparents wrote a note saying the song was just published the year before, and they asked a friend to record them singing it to her.

We both love it. It's so special to have our grandparent's voices recorded for all time. It makes us feel like they're standing right next to us.

Alice cries with joy about how they would give her something so special and has played the record at least twenty times a day for the last two weeks.

When springtime arrives, Charlie finishes removing and burning the remaining stocks of cotton from the previous year on the Brandon plot.

Then he plows under the soil several times over and plants peanuts—he wants to wait a year or two before he attempts cotton there again, to ensure the boll weevils have moved on.

This spring marks the arrival of the new foreman who Charlie has hired to help run the Plantation.

Our current foreman, Mr. Ehd, has been working for the Swans since 1885. He was here before Charlie was born. Charlie will tell you, "He's been here since the dawn of mankind," with a snicker and a grin. He's a man of few words, communicating mostly with a raise of his brow or a few hand gestures to get his point across. I always considered him a permanent fixture here. But now he is ready for retirement. He plans to move into Savannah proper to be closer to his daughter's family so he can spend more time with his grandchildren.

Mr. Ehd has stayed on with Charlie since his father and mother died of the Spanish flu in the year 1913. Then, Charlie was only 23 years old and needed the help, wisdom, knowledge and guidance only Mr. Ehd could provide.

As my parents explained things, the story goes like this:

H~~H

Back in 1908, a representative for the Cullen family arrived in Georgia. When touring the state, he happened upon the Swan Plantation. Mr. Jenks and Charles M. Swan, Jr. hit it off right away. Mr. Jenks was impressed with the high quality of the cotton being grown. This cotton is called Yuma and makes incredibly strong yet soft fabric. Instead of selling our crop to the local mills, as the other plantations were, thereby reducing the selling price with their less quality product, our cotton would be sold to the Cullen family and shipped to England.

Charlie's father had only traded correspondence with Mr. Cullen during the first five years since the initial meeting with Mr. Jenks. It was decided that Charlie's parents would go to England and meet the Cullen's. Plus, since they had never traveled the distance before, a grand tour of the European countries was in order. Charlie received letters from his parents raving about the hospitality of the Cullen's of London—with letters and postcards, post-marked from all the various and wonderful sights and places they were visiting.

When they were on the ship, heading towards home, the Spanish flu struck. The death toll was immense, with 57 percent of the passengers losing their lives. It was hard for both Charlie and Renee, not only for the loss of his parents, but suddenly, the Plantation was his sole responsibility. Mr. Ehd was there every step of the way, guiding Charlie where he lacked certain knowledge.

The year of 1915, before the harvest was starting, the younger Cullen heir arrived. Carlisle was a handsome man, with golden blond hair and deep sky blue eyes, and his lovely wife Esme had reddish brown hair and beautiful green eyes. Carlisle, who was taking over the business from his own father, came to the Plantation to learn from Charlie, any business information he might need.

A wonderful friendship grew between both the men and the ladies. Where Carlisle was book smart, Charlie was made for the land; both men learned much from the other. It was a perfect balance.

Renee was thrilled to have another lady spend so much time in her home. Along with Carlisle and Esme, was their three year old son, Edward.

According to Renee, he was a beautiful and gentle little boy with brown hair that had red and golden highlights, his mother's green eyes and silly crooked grin when he smiled, _which was often._

Renee enjoyed spending time with Esme, learning new recipes and obscure European customs and history. Such as who first claimed the creations of French fries. Apparently, the Belgian people claim that the potato was first fried in the late 1700's in the region of Wallonie, where the people traditionally ate small fried fish, but were forced to turn to other foods when the rivers froze in the winter. Potatoes were sliced into small fish shapes, supposedly to imitate their traditional fare, and then fried in fat.

Likewise, Esme relished the food with collard greens, grits and battered fried chicken. She laughed at the ingredients with peculiar names, such as "Butt Rub" seasonings, but enjoyed the flavorful pulled pork sandwiches and the barbequing out of doors. They didn't do that in England.

Having a child in the home caused laughter to abound. Edward enjoyed being on his father's or Charlie's shoulders and picking at the cotton bolls and stretching the fibers. At three years of age, he found life on the plantation fascinating; from chasing chickens, trying to grab at the pigs and petting cows up close while then imitating their sounds. This was not something you see in London proper regularly if at all.

By early September, the cotton was picked, bailed and on board ship. The two families said their goodbyes, with promises to stay in touch and to meet again. Not only was business completed, but lifetime friendships were forged.

H~~H

The new foreman, Mr. McCarty, arrives with little fanfare. Mr. McCarty is a bear of a man. He would give Paul Bunyan a run for his money. Dark hair, graying at the temples and blue green eyes. He's a single father, losing his wife during childbirth of a second son. Unfortunately, this happened more times than you can imagine. He has a strong resume and understands not only the growing of cotton, but also about peanuts, corn, soy beans, etc. You name it, the man can grow it.

He also respects the fact that my father pays all his laborers the same. As my dad insists, "There is no differentiating between any men of color who works here."

Being of like mindedness, relieves Charlie to no end. He will only have a man on his land who's, as he calls them, "Colorblind." All men on this plantation, whether they're the year round laborers with room and board on the property or the sharecroppers who come just for the harvest, are all treated equally.

Along with Mr. McCarty, is his twelve year old son Emmett. I call him, "Man-child" to myself or Alice, because that's what he is. He's already a large man; muscular with dark brown hair, blue eyes which sparkle with laughter and the makings of stubble on his chin, but he has the youth and heart of a boy. Smiles come easy to Emmett.

Quickly, he becomes the brother Alice and I never knew we wanted. He teases us good naturedly, but whenever Jacob Black is in the vicinity, it seems his easy going attitude disappears a little and he becomes our protector. It's as if he senses my discomfort and becomes a buffer between Jacob and me.

Jacob doesn't hide the fact he can't stand Emmett at all. I can't hide the fact, I enjoy this part of Emmett. Anything or anyone which keeps Jacob away from me—is top notch in my book.

Alice and I love to tease Emmett as well. At ten, I actually help Emmett with his school work and he good naturedly takes my ribbing. Since his father and he moved around a lot, he didn't stay in any one school long enough to catch up on what he's missed. If he answers a question wrong, Alice will deny Emmett her pastries or cakes for dessert. Believe me, he learned quickly to study hard and get the questions right the first time.

Having Emmett around has been a welcome breath of fresh air. It's fun having someone close to our age here at home. He accompanies us to school, and spends time with our little group of friends who have taken to him right away. It can't be helped; everyone enjoys Emmett's easy going nature, silly jokes and happy attitude.

Rosalie and Emmett hit it off _real_ _well_, immediately, although Royce is none too pleased about it.

Since Rosalie gives Emmett attention, so do Jessica and Lauren. Not that they wouldn't have anyways, but whatever Rosalie likes, so do they.

They will "ooh and aw" about his muscles or his gorgeous blue eyes with his thick black eyelashes. Emmett isn't impressed with their simpering ways. He just rolls said "blue eyes" at Rosalie, Alice, Angela and I after they leave.

After school, Alice and I torment him sometimes about all the little hearts he's breaking. We imitate what Jessica and Lauren say about him, while fluttering our eyelashes and patting our hands over our hearts. Alice pretends to get the vapors, swaying back and forth, ready to swoon, dramatically sighing, "Oh, catch me Emmett, you big strong handsome man you." I can't help busting out laughing at her antics.

Emmett just gives us a wicked grin and a shrug of his shoulders. Emmett isn't interested in them at all; we can see were his interest is held.

We don't tease him about Rosalie. In fact, we secretly hope and wish they will find their way to each other when all is said and done.


	5. The Great Depression

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**To books-are-better, beta extraordinaire, writer of stories based on The Hunger Games. They are good! Check them out!**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in PM's and reviews. I really appreciate the thoughts.**

**Chapter 4 **

**The Great Depression**

**1926 to 1930 **

**Bella**

1926 started out as a good year. For Alice's birthday, Grandpa and Grandma Brandon sent the record "Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue" by Gene Austin. There was a little note added to the bottom of the letter:

_We know you aren't 5'2, but aim high and you just might make it. If not, don't worry, because we know what your 4'10" can do. We can't wait to see our gals this summer._

_Love you, Grandma and Grandpa_

Grandpa is a huge Brooklyn Dodgers fan. Through his letters to us, we're excited to discover, when we visit them during the summer, he plans on taking us to one of their baseball games.

On April 30th, Grandpa and Grandma take a 200 mile road trip from New York to Boston to watch his beloved Dodgers play the Boston Braves; they wrote us a letter and posted it four days before they left, telling us about their plans to visit various sites along the way. They have tickets for the next day, and you can practically feel the excitement leap from the letter from Grandpa—he hopes it to be an enjoyable game and the Dodgers win, _of course._

That next night, however, foreshadowed things to come. I awake in the middle of the night to Alice having a nightmare. She's crying in her sleep and it takes me a minute to be able to wake her. When she finally does, she tells me of her dream. Grandma and Grandpa said good bye to her and they wanted her to know how much we and our parents were loved. They wanted us to remember the music and to be happy.

I try to comfort her and remind her it was just a dream. That they're okay, and we'll see them this summer. But there is no amount of consoling I can do. She asks me not tell our parents about the dream. She doesn't want to worry them.

When we go into town to collect our mail and get a few supplies, we find a newspaper from a day after the game was played. We read how the game was called, because it was too dark to play, with the score deadlocked at 1-1 in 26 innings; they would have to finish the game at a later date.

It's so funny for us to imagine our Grandpa watching almost 3 full games of nine inning baseball in one sitting. We laugh harder, when we imagine how Grandma probably fell asleep after the 10th inning. She doesn't mind supporting him in his hobby of watching baseball, but always falls asleep if the game goes into extra innings. Alice has a sad but resigned look to her features and I know she's thinking of her dream. She truly believes what she dreamt about.

Two days later, my mother and father receive a letter from Mr. Grey, Attorney at Law, from New York. He regretfully, informed us of the passing of our Grandparents. It seems, late in the evening of May 1st, while on the road returning to their hotel, a truck ran a stop sign and slammed into the side of my Grandparent's automobile. They were killed on impact. Per the instructions in their will, they wanted to be buried here in Savannah. Mr. Grey said he was waiting for the wishes of my parents on when to have the bodies brought here, and he would accompany them by train.

As I listen to my father read the letter aloud to us, the only thing I can think about was Alice's dream was true! I hug her with all my might, caressing her soft hair with my fingers. But I also envy her, as I whisper in her ear, "Alice, at least you got to see them one more time."

The original Swan descendants were buried in the Colonial Park Cemetery. The cemetery was establish in 1750 and closed in 1853, after becoming so crowded and un-kept. The good citizens of Savannah petitioned for a new place to bury their loved ones. The year was 1869 when their remains were moved to a large family plot in Bonaventure Cemetery, where the burial rates were reduced from 12.5 cents per square foot to 6.5 cents per square foot.

This is where we laid to rest our Grandparents. The funeral is a quiet affair, as my family is not one for huge public displays. Reverend Weber blesses their souls and those of us present. We come home for a quiet family dinner where we remember all the good times—with the gramophone playing their favorite music softly in the background.

Mr. Grey stays only long enough to explain that all their possessions will be packed up and shipped to us and there is money for our parents and savings accounts in the names of Alice and me to use, with the hope of one day being the first in our families to go to college.

H~~H

**1930**

The stock market crashing in October 1929 was not what caused the United States to head into the Great Depression. It was the congress. Or should I say, two men specifically by the names of Senator Reed Smoot and Representative Willis C. Hawley. The Tariff Act of 1930, otherwise known as the Smoot–Hawley Tariff or Hawley–Smoot Tariff, was signed into law on June 17, 1930 which raised U.S. taxes on over 20,000 imported goods to record levels. Although the tariff act was passed, after the stock-market crash of 1929, some consider the political discussion leading up to the passing of the act, a leading factor in causing the crash, the creation of the recession which began in late 1929, or both. The overall level of tariff or tax, under this Tariff Act is the second-highest in U.S. history, exceeding by a small margin only by the Tariff of 1828.

This act has caused retaliations from other countries who had been trade partners to the United States, and who have now increased their tariff to match ours. This has reduced both exports and imports by more than half. U.S. imports have decrease 66% and exports have decreased 61%. A simpler way to understand this is for every dollar spent, there is .66 cents paid in tax.

So the domino effect has occurred. Because of this, factories and mills have closed. Without a world market to buy their products there are not enough purchasers. Employees have lost their jobs. Unemployment has started to hit a record breaking high. Construction workers have nothing to build, so in turn, no money in their pockets. Farmers who grow cash crops such as cotton, corn, can't ship their products, and are making pennies on the dollar since they are only able to sell in the United States—in competition with all the other farmers. So farms are going belly up.

Mortgages can't be paid and no monies are being invested, so now banks are closing. It isn't just the Americans that this Tariff Act is hurting. No, this has created a global depression.

At the age of 14, I'm seeing first hand all these types of business's closing on the rare occasions we actually venture into town—and it's frightening.

Many of the kids we know have parents without jobs, and are barely surviving. My family is lucky in many ways; we have our family garden and livestock to easily sustain us. Any extra produce we have, which can't be canned or preserved, are gladly shared through Reverend Weber's church.

H~~H

**Charlie**

The worry for me and my family is our cotton, peanut and corn crop. The boll weevil has moved on, so our cotton is again our major cash crop. With the tariffs in place, Mr. Cullen can't afford to import the cotton. There has been much correspondence between Carlisle and I when the tariffs were put in place and it has been decided, 'politics be damned'. They should have no say in our business which has been beneficial to both our families for years, and though it might be illegal, this partnership will continue—just not through regular channels.

Billy Black has been selling his tobacco to Mr. Jenks, not knowing the name of the actual purchaser for the last couple of years, and has enjoyed those benefits due to his friendship with me. Mr. Cullen is not a man particularly interested in his product, but Mr. Jenks has made him money on the importing and selling in previous years. However, with the new tariffs in place and the clandestine nature of the arrangement we've agreed upon, the fewer people to know about this deal, the better. With this thought in mind, Carlisle and I have agreed that Billy Black's tobacco will not be part of this shipment. Plus, if something goes wrong, I don't need Billy Black thinking I owe him for any loss.

As I'm watching the harvesting of the cotton and peanuts with Billy Black on my mind, it's then, speak of the devil, he comes to call. It's as if he knew I was just thinking about him. As Billy walks up to me, surveying the activity, he observes, "Looks like a fine harvest you have here, Charlie."

I nod, seeing the same thing that Billy sees.

"When do you think you'll be done? My crop should be ready for shipping in about 3 weeks," Billy states.

"If all goes well, it should be ready within two weeks." I surmise.

"Are you planning on shipping to London again?" Billy inquires.

"No, I'm not. Not this year," I reply.

Stunned, Billy looks at me. "You're not dealing with Mr. Jenks?"

I continue watching the sharecroppers hard at work, not looking at Billy. "No."

Now, I can tell Billy is getting agitated when he asks, "Have you spoken to Mr. Jenks about our partnership? What about my tobacco? Isn't his buyer interested in it?"

"I haven't spoken with Mr. Jenks, Billy, to ask if his buyer is currently interested in tobacco or not. Nor have I spoken with him regarding my cotton. For all I know, with the tariffs being the way they are, is why Mr. Jenks hasn't contacted me." I said, which in truth, is an honest answer.

"What am I supposed to do with all my tobacco? You're my partner. Mr. Jenks has always made contact with me through you," Billy's shocked voice matches the stress lines on his face.

"I'm not your partner Billy; you've just made money through my contact. I've never made money from you. I helped you before, but I can't this year," I state calmly. "And as I said, I haven't been in contact with Mr. Jenks."

Billy is beyond angry, closer to furious, the veins in his neck are bulging. "I was relying on you and Mr. Jenks! I need to sell my tobacco! I could have looked for another buyer if I would have known that this was going to happen! Let me have his contact information so I can communicate with him myself. Who are you selling to; maybe they would be interested in tobacco?"

I look at Billy in disbelief. "I have never promised you that Mr. Jenks would purchase your tobacco every year. Being a business man, you should always be looking for a buyer to get the best price. It's what I have been doing knowing about the tariffs. You've known about the tariffs, same as I have, and you should've tried to find a buyer here in the states. Don't blame me if you just assumed that Mr. Jenks would always be here. You know what they say about the word assume, Billy."

But I can tell Billy stopped listening to me half-way through my speech; I watch him closely. I can see Billy has done exactly what I accused him of, he assumed. He has been making the easiest money for the last couple of years—riding on my coattails. I have no more advice to give.

Billy is livid. There's a line from a book I'm reading called Dracula, by Bram Stoker, it goes 'if ever a face meant death—if looks could kill—we saw it at that moment.' At this moment, the look has come to life on his face. He opens his mouth again and demands Mr. Jenks' contact information one last time—which I refuse.

Billy turns around and storms off the porch, into his vehicle, cursing at me for trying to ruin him. I just stand there and watch him drive away.

Instinctively, I know I've created an enemy. Not that we're the best of friends as it is. I'll have to watch my back and hope Billy will calm down and see the error of his ways. But somehow I know it will never happen. Billy will feel wronged, and nobody wrongs a Black.

A movement off to the side of the front porch alerts me to a little ease dropper. It's Bella, she must have overheard the whole conversation I had with Billy. And this is not something I would have purposefully wanted her to hear.

Bella is excellent at reading people. Billy Black is definitely a character study in how not to conduct business. Bella, at fourteen, has more business sense than Billy—I would lay you odds at ten to one.

Bella reminds me so much of myself at her age. She's quiet, but unbelievably observant. She knows the life cycle of the crops as well as I do. She understands the soil and what it means to take care of it. She is book smart and has working knowledge in how to run the Plantation.

She can do it all. She also has Renee's feisty spirit and never give-up attitude. She's not a quitter in anything she's done so far.

The only thing she's lacking is actual experience of interacting with people. The outside forces, such as people like Billy Black or others who covet what we have, has eluded her so far. You can hear the stories, but until you've actually dealt with people and how or what they expect from you or how to handle them, you still have a lot of growing up to do. So maybe the eavesdropping wasn't such a bad thing. It gives her a taste of things to come.

I nod to her and she nods back. No words need to be spoken between us—we read each other well. I gaze once again at the progress of the harvest. I see Mr. McCarty talking to Emmett at one of the stations were the cotton is being carried to for bailing. He's teaching his son well. I can see Emmett staying on here and becoming our foreman of the future; he and Bella enjoy each other's company and work well together.

I turn to the front door and open it. Bella steps inside, calls for Alice and goes directly to my office. We all need to talk so they are acquainted with what is actually going on.

What follows, is a long conversation on what my plans are with Mr. Cullen. I leave nothing out so both understand the history, the friendship forged and the trust we have in each other. We both know the risks to both parties—the consequences that could occur with the selling and purchasing of the current harvest.

Bella and Alice will be the only ones to know everything that takes place. I don't want to worry Renee, though I know she'll understand. But my two daughters are the future of this land and need to be aware of everything and anything to help them continue to make this Plantation a success.

After they leave the office, I lean back in my chair and smile. A man couldn't have asked for two better gifts than the two of them. Where Bella is the heart, Alice is the soul. They complete each other and I truly believe Alice will stand side by side with Bella and continue on when it's my time to leave the land in their capable hands. Who says you need a son?

H~~H

**Bella**

After we left my father's office, Alice and I head upstairs to our sitting room. It's a small space between the two of our bedrooms, where we have shared all things important to us. I relate verbatim the conversation I overheard with Billy Black. Not surprisingly, Alice shares my views on the pompous ass. It's not hard for either of us to understand why Jacob is the way he is. It's unfortunate some people just believe it's their God given right to have all things handed to them.

We talk about the risks. Mr. Cullen will not be receiving his cargo through usual ports of call. Instead, an English company hired two of Mr. Cullen's ships for a shipment to Mexico. The empty ships will arrive in Savannah harbor to load the cotton and peanuts. Since the tariff applies to imports, there should be no problem with the custom officials here. Just in case, Mr. Jenks will be at port side to smooth out any ruffled feathers and grease any palms.

There will be no record of the merchandise seller on board the ship once it leaves the port. From there, the ships will sail to the northern coast of England, close to Scotland, where Mr. Cullen owns a ship building company. It's a privately held business, so there should not be any customs officials to deal with there. Cullen ships will be sailing into Cullen Ship Builders. Once the delivery is made, the cotton will be transported over land to a mill in Scotland—also owned by the Cullen family—and the peanuts will arrive in various parts of England for sale.

The biggest risk is being taken by the Cullen family. However, our risk is if the ships get confiscated, we lose any profit. We can't show the sale of our crops, so no income tax will be paid and this also puts us at risk. Tax evasion has stiff penalties.

After Charlie explained in great detail what will happen, he asked, "Are there any questions? Ask anything you want and if you're not comfortable with this, I need to know now so I can call it off with Mr. Cullen." But neither of us did.

For some reason, it made us proud and a little in awe of Mr. Cullen and our father. As Charlie put it so succinctly, "Sometimes a man is not given an opportunity to do the right thing." We couldn't have agreed more.


	6. Great Depression - Cause and Effect

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**To books-are-better, beta extraordinaire, writer of stories based on The Hunger Games. They are good! Check them out!**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in PM's and reviews. I really appreciate the thoughts.**

**Chapter 5 **

**Great Depression –Cause and Effect**

**January 1st to March 31st 1932**

**Bella**

**January and February**

A brand new year has been heralded in. The prior two years harvest and subsequent sale to Mr. Cullen go smoothly. But this bit of good news received on January 3rd 1932, seems to be the only good news we hear this year.

We have money to see us through for this year's planting season. All the workers are paid. Life here in our small corner of the world is good.

However, it's not so bright looking on the other side of the fence. This year the Great Depression is taking its toll on many of the families we know.

Tyler Crowley's dad, the butcher, lost his job at the shop. He's taken up going to various farms that need a cow or pig butchered here and there, but most people are now doing this job for themselves instead of paying or trading for his services.

The Grocery business is down for Mike Newton's dad. It seems on some days Mr. Newton spends more time dealing with thieves then he does his paying customers. So many people are hungry, so on one hand you can understand the stealing of bread or milk. But on the other hand, it's just plain wrong.

The cotton mill Lauren's father owns is close to closing. It will be if he's not awarded the new contract the government has out to bid to supply military wear for its personnel at one eighth the amount they're currently paying. So many employees have already taken cuts in wages with another to come, or no wage at all—if it closes its doors.

The need for legal advice has decreased, and those who are put in jail, aren't able to afford a lawyer anyhow. It seems like some folks purposely get themselves arrested just to have a decent meal, clean bedding and fresh clothes. In consequence, Jessica Stanley's dad is doing a lot of bartering for food stuffs, in lieu of legal advice.

Angela's father the minister has a packed church every weekend, with those praying to God to help them. But the coffer for the church which pays his wage is at an all-time low. How can you give to the collection plate, when you have barely anything to eat on your own?

To say the depression is depressing is redundant—but true. When children become stressed because of their parent's worries, it creates a strong emotional imbalance. And Rosalie is greatly depressed. Emmett can rarely make her smile to save his soul. She has become introverted and really isn't talking to any of us. Alice and I fear maybe things aren't going well at home or maybe they're moving.

So far Ben Cheney's dad, the teacher is still gainfully employed. But, he's worried just like everyone else.

Eric Yorkie's dad who works for the railroad still has job security. Businesses are shipping there cargo by railroad to ports through Savannah instead of the larger ports, because it's cheaper.

Royce King's dad seems to be doing well. His father's bank is holding its own. Royce is almost 18 years of age and seems exceptionally happy. He's already telling everyone he will be working at the bank as soon as he graduates. His eyes are also constantly on Rosalie. Hers are always looking down to the ground.

Jacob is still as arrogant as ever. It seems Billy _was_ able to find a seller for his tobacco and enjoys taunting and boosting to my dad about his profits. But Charlie, who's never been a boastful man, just lets it go in one ear and out the other. "A happy Billy is a Black off his back," Charlie snickers.

Billy continues to make mention of joining of our two families and Jacob is even becoming bolder with his own overt statements about how the Blacks and the Swans could and should join forces. He even went so far as to create a black swan with ink on wood and asked what I thought about it, as a sign for our properties.

"C'mon Bella, what's not to like?" he probes, his dark eyes mischievous.

"That's just it Jacob, there's nothing to like." I retort firmly.

The look on his face was not pleasant.

Alice grabbed my arm and led me into class, worried I may have been a little to blunt about his artist creation.

H~~H

**March**

Spring has arrived after an early Easter. Alice and I reach the school grounds a little early after the holiday break. Emmett is eighteen now and has completed the requirements needed for graduation. He can now start working full time on the Plantation. This will be his first year of making a grown man's wage and he's excited to start saving for a future, that we all know includes Rosalie.

As we approached the area we usually meet up with our friends, we hear Royce yelling at Rosalie. "You stupid bitch, stop crying. We need to get to class soon and I'll be damned if my fiancée looks like a sniveling cow."

Both Alice and I stop dead in our tracks. Rosalie's cries get louder.

"I said, stop crying." he shouts, lifting his right hand, he back hands her across the face, and her head snapped back viciously.

I immediately start to take off towards them, anger welling inside me, but Alice holds me in a death grip. I want to attack him; even if he's basically a full grown man and over 6' in height, and I pale in comparison at 5'4". I think I could have gotten a few good blows in, considering I have surprise on my side.

Heck, if Alice would help instead of hold me back, I'm sure we could take him. Charlie did after all teach us some self-defense and how to throw a good punch. No man should hit a girl. Ever!

As soon as Royce stomps off to his classroom, Alice and I run to our friend. Alice has already pulled out a handkerchief, wiping her tears away as soon as we reach Rosalie.

I stand back for a few minutes or two, fuming—_no help at all_. All I can think about is how I want to hit something. Well, to be honest, I want to beat the living daylights out of Royce King. Never have I felt this rage.

The soothing tones of Alice's voice finally register with me and I can see Rosalie has started to calm down.

After her cries have quieted down some more, Alice speaks softly with concern, "When did you become engaged?"

She looks down at the ground again, which has become Rosalie's favorite point of interest, then finally looks up at us. "Last night," she whispers.

Alice searches her face for a few seconds, "You were forced into it."

Rosalie nods her head, and then she truly looks at us for the first time, her eyes are so full of pain and dread. "My father will lose his job if I don't marry Royce and..."

"With times being as tough as they are, your father won't be able to find another job," Alice completes her sentence.

Rosalie merely nods her head again and returns her gaze to the ground.

I'm stunned. Alice instantly understood the situation and continues to give comfort to Rosalie. I, however, can't wrap my head around the idea of being forced to marry someone I don't care for. This is the 20st century for crying out loud—I thought arranged marriages just weren't done anymore. But, I see this is obviously isn't true, as I look at Rosalie.

Royce is conceited, mean and obviously has no issue with hitting a woman—_he's no good for her._ Rosalie is a victim for her own family's happiness. Does her family not care what this is doing her? Sure, times are tough, but are her parents willingly sacrificing their only child or are they pushing her into it? _Again I want to punch Royce._

And what's even worse, is Emmett. We all know Rosalie cares for Emmett, as does Emmett care about Rosalie. They would be perfect together.

But it looks like all that is now lost. The Great Depression once again leaving its mark.

My mind is scattered with so many thoughts, I didn't hear the bell ring for class. Alice nudges me to get my attention, and I look around, having forgotten where I am. My anger with Royce must still be evident on my face, because when I look at Rosalie, she instantly lets her gaze fall down to the ground again. She probably thinks I'm upset with her. If only she knew what I was really thinking about.

I walk up to her and she flinches. I ignore it and put my arms around her and give her a long, tight hug. "I'm so sorry Rosalie. I wish there was something I could say to make this better. If you need anything, let us know; we'll always be here for you," I whisper into her ear.

She relaxes immediately. How could she ever think I was upset with her? When we pull away, I grab her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Anything at all, Rosalie, we're here." She squeezes my hand in return.

We walk into the school building to attend our classes for the morning. I have no idea what was taught. I'm lost in my thoughts of Rosalie's situation.

When we're let out of class for lunch, Royce walks up to me as I stand by myself at the corner of the school building, waiting for Alice.

"Thanks for calming Rose down. You would think she'd be happy marrying the richest bachelor in the county, but instead all I get is her crying," he's perturbed, zero remorse in his voice.

My body freezes, and I look at him incredulously, "Doesn't that give you a clue, that this isn't what she wants?"

Gone is any look of sincerity, firmly in its place, is a sneer, "Doesn't matter what she wants. I deserve the prettiest girl. It'll be worth the aggravation soon, she'll serve my needs and get used to it. She'll come to realize I'm the best one for her."

I clench my fist. "So you would marry someone who's unhappy with you? You don't care if she doesn't like you that way? You think you're so good she'll change her feelings for you? There are other girls who would be thrilled to have you, why force one who doesn't?" I rattled off the questions circling in my mind—all at once.

He smiles a cocky grin at me, not even listening to anything I've asked. The only thing that seems to register with him is 'other girls.' "You know, Isabella, if it wasn't Rosalie, it would have been you who I wanted. And I always get what I want. Maybe later, sweetheart, you and I can get together. You know—when she's pregnant and I need a release," he winks and then walks away from me, whistling softly.

_Once again rage fills my entire being._

_How dare he think I would have anything to do with him!?_

_How dare he think of me as some sort of paramour!?_

_How dare he would think to do that to Rosalie!?_

_How dare he breathe!?_

Suddenly, I feel Alice's arms wrap around me. It takes all the now limited self-control I possess to not shake her off and throw something at the back of Royce's head. _Like a brick!_

Alice tries to talk me down from my rage, whispering into my ears, but I don't hear most of it. I only catch bits and pieces like, "calm down" or "he's not worth it." But when she says, "Think of Rosalie and how this might affect her; he might hit her again." I instantly snap out of it. I take deep calming breathes, trying to still the storm which rages inside me.

H~~H

Emmett comes to picks us up after school, but before we have a chance to warn him, he spots Royce who throws his arm around Rosalie's shoulders, and gives him a knowing smirk.

Rosalie tries to move away but he tightens his grip. When Emmett comes within hearing distance, Royce speaks loudly, "Don't move bitch, it's about time he knows you are mine and all his little fantasies have now disappeared."

Emmett stops and looks at Rosalie, who is once again, looking at the ground. Royce takes this opportunity to grab Rosalie's left hand, "Don't you think this is a lovely ring Emmett? A lovely ring for a lovely girl, wouldn't you say?" he taunts.

Emmett's mouth drops open, words escaping him. He knows the significance of the statement. Then he turns to Alice and me, "You ready?"

We nod our heads and walk to the car, slipping inside with him. We don't speak for the first few miles of the drive. Then suddenly, without saying a word, Emmett pulls the car to the side of the road, gets out, slams the door and walks into a virtually empty field, but for one lone massive oak tree. He stalks up to it and begins beating his fists into the immobile object.

Alice and I watch from the car, our hearts breaking. But after the first round of punches, we start yelling for him to stop. But we couldn't stop him either verbally or forcefully. Grabbing his arms, at this point in his fury, is equal to a fly carrying off a pound of sugar. It just isn't happening, but we try anyway.

For over five minutes, he pummeled the tree and we could hear the bones crunching, breaking and the blood splattering everywhere from his pulverized fists. It's truly horrifying.

Finally, when the pain registers through the fog of anger which had taken over of his mind, are we able to grab his wrists before he does any more damage.

Alice sits down with Emmett, while I run towards the little creek that flows across the clearing. I fall to my knees and tear at the sleeves of my dress, ripping them off. I soak the material in the frigid water and run back to them.

Alice is quietly talking to Emmett, telling him about everything we know and how it happened and this isn't what Rosalie wanted. She wants to be with him.

I gently reach for his torn up hands and try to clean them of blood, bark and splinters as best I can; but I'm no healer. Alice continues, in her calming voice, trying to ease Emmett's broken heart, while I try to ease his physical pain. But it's mostly futile. The help we provide for both injuries does little; it will take a long time to heal the wounds of his heart.

When Alice and I have done all we can do, we walk Emmett to the car. The good thing about living on a plantation is you learn how to operate all the equipment, so it isn't too hard to figure out how to drive the automobile. As soon as I park, I notice Charlie and Mr. McCarty staring at us, and it doesn't take long for the two men to figure out something is wrong with Emmett, seeing as how I was driving.

When we exit the car, their eyes flash down to Emmett's hands, but they don't ask us what happened. Charlie just asks me to get his bottle of whiskey and to Alice, a needle and thread, as they lead Emmett into the kitchen. Alice and I return at the same time and Charlie tries to take the items from us, but we both shake our heads, no. We need to do this.

I grab a glass and pour some whiskey in it, and put the glass to his mouth, silently pleading with him to drink, to lessen his pain. I can see Emmett wants to feel the pain, but he finally does drink it all, I think for Alice and me. I pour more into the glass, and ready it for him again.

Charlie and Mr. McCarty are normally the ones to take care of injures. The doctor can always be brought in, but he wouldn't be able to do much more than these two know. Mr. McCarty unwraps the make shift bandage from Emmett's hands I had put on earlier and Charlie puts a thick strap into Emmett's mouth for him to bite down upon; then he covers his lap in an old piece of tarp that's stiffened in a wide bowl-like shape.

As Mr. McCarty pours hydrogen peroxide over Emmett's hands, Charlie shifts and stands behind Emmett, putting his hands on Emmett's biceps and holding him in place. He's ready to wrap his arms around him if need be. Mr. McCarty reaches for the most mangled hand which is his left and pulls hard on each of his fingers, in some cases a few times, setting the bones that are broken; the skin on each hand is torn to shreds.

Alice has brought two needles and has already put the needles to flame for sterilizing and has them threaded. As soon as the fingers are set as best they can be by Mr. McCarty, Alice goes to work stitching up his left hand.

Emmett hasn't made a sound nor has he flinched. He just looks ahead, his eyes glassy; he looks broken. Before Mr. McCarty works on the right hand, I pull the strap from his mouth and give Emmett another drink of whiskey. Once those fingers are set, I start to work stitching his right hand. Stitching skin isn't much different than leather and I'm thankful for all the hours spent with Renee and needlework.

Mrs. Cope walks into the silent kitchen and takes in the scene. She walks into the pantry and pulls out some of the herbs stored there. She ladles warm water, which is always heating on the stove, into a small bowl. She puts the herbs into the bowl and begins to mash until a spicy pungent aroma fills the room. As soon as Alice and I are done with the stitching, Mrs. Cope brings over the poultice she's made to ease the pain and reduce the swelling, spreading it over Emmett's knuckles. Then finally Mr. McCarty finishes by wrapping them up in fresh strips of linens.

My father stands back, first squeezing Emmett's shoulders in reassurance and comfort, then reaches over and takes the strap from his mouth. I take the strap from him and the tarp which now contains bark, blood, liquid and the dirty wrappings over to the sink. I reach under it, pull out a bucket, scrape pieces of lye soap into it and then fill it with warm water from the stove to let them soak. For some reason, the only thing I can think about, is not a word has been spoken by Emmett; not even a sound.

It's as if the light has left his soul.


	7. Ice Dragon and the Snow Queen

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**To books-are-better, an incredible beta, writer of stories based on The Hunger Games. They are good! Check them out!**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in PM's and reviews. I really appreciate the thoughts.**

**Bonus chapter :)**

**Chapter 6 **

**Ice Dragon and the Snow Queen**

**April 1st to June 30th 1932**

**Bella**

**April and May**

The planting of our crops is in full swing and the plantation is a hive of activity. While the men are working in the fields, the women have taken to spring cleaning the home from top to bottom. I personally, would much rather be out in the fields—getting my hands dirty in the soil, instead of keeping my hands clean to polish the furniture. But as soon as the household chores are done, Alice and I will be in our family garden planting the vegetables and strawberries.

Emmett's hands have healed surprising well. I wasn't sure he would have full use of them again after the beating they took, but he's strong and young in body. His heart, though, has not mended. And it took another beating when the family received the invitation for Rosalie's wedding.

Emmett wasn't invited and I'm sure both parties wanted it that way.

School is getting close to ending and the wedding is set for June 25th. Though Royce makes a show of being the loving fiancée when we're around, you can tell it's just that, _a show._

He reminds me of an Ice Dragon; his hoary, cold breathe of doom freezing her, watching her eyes become vacant and her soul spiritless. She seeks sanctuary from the ground. Perhaps in wishing it will suck her beneath it. She won't speak when he's there. He does all the talking, spewing about what a grand affair the wedding will be.

On rare occasions, when he isn't around, Rosalie will speak to only Alice and me about what's really happening. Her parents, in essence, have bartered her, their only child, to the King's, so that Mr. Hale can retain his job. They treat her like an ingrate for not appreciating what she's being given. It only matters what their gain is as opposed to what she is losing. Thus they have created a confused, hurt and lost girl. To my way of thinking, this is a form of slavery. A daughter sold to the highest bidder.

This chasm between Rosalie and her parents is widening as the wedding dawns closer. She has no interest in the proceedings, as most girls getting ready for their wedding day, would show. She doesn't care what she'll wear or who will attend.

Her only concern is how Emmett is doing. She heard about his confrontation with the tree and she asks daily about how he is and speaks of how much she misses him. She doesn't want him at the wedding to witness, as she calls it, her _"humiliation."_ She's never liked, let alone loved, Royce, and can't see with time she ever will—even though her mother insists she will.

On several occasions, the conversation has led to her desire to run away from the debacle, but she has nowhere to go. She knows of no acquaintances or family who lives in or out of state where she could hide. We talked to our parent's and they agreed she could live with us but Rosalie is worried about the backlash of the community to our parents. She's even dreamed of riding the rails and just going wherever the tracks ended. Realistically, she knows the dangers and won't—but it doesn't stop her from envisioning the idea.

During this talk, another one hidden from her Ice Dragon fiancé, words of encouragement escape me. Even Alice struggles to find something positive to give Rosalie strength. What she comes up with is, "At your next wedding, you will wear pink."

It's so absurd in the big scheme of things, at first Rosalie and I just stare at Alice as if she's lost her mind. Alice looks so serious we can't help but to start laughing. It's a strong cathartic laugh, which makes your eyes water and your sides hurt. It's such a joy to see a moment of happiness on Rosalie's face.

Unfortunately, less than two minutes later it dissolves when Royce comes over wanting to know what we're laughing about.

Alice looks him square in the eye. "The color pink."

Royce looks to Rosalie, who again finds her shoes interesting, to me and then back to Alice. "Pink? That's it, just the color pink," he questions.

Alice, again with a straight face simply says, "Pink!"

Royce, obviously confused, shakes his head and walks off, looking over his shoulder a couple of times.

When we can't see him anymore, Alice turns to Rosalie and gives her a wink. "Remember what I said."

Rosalie's lips form an actual smile, however brief, "I will look forward to the day when I wear pink. It's a promise!"

H~~H

**June**

It's good when school's out. Early June is a beautiful time of year on the plantation. Flowers are forming buds or bursting with colorful blooms everywhere from our family garden to the fields. Ribbons of wild flowers on the sides of the road or near the springs are keeping the bees and other insects humming.

Rosalie is graduating today and Alice and I are going to support her. We told her Emmett was probably going to be there and for a brief moment, light flickered in her eyes, and then she shut it down.

The auditorium is crowded with family and friends of the graduates. When we arrive, it's to standing room only. Cheers, whistles and applause greats each graduate named. Emmett does come, but stands way in the back. He lean against the wall, his arms crossed in front of him, trying to blend in with the crowd. For someone who is as large of frame as he is, it just doesn't work. Emmett will always stand out from the rest—he has too much of a presence not to.

Standing here, in the back watching the ceremony, is when Emmett finally asks about the wedding. For so long he's remained silent and never asked. We've wanted to tell him everything, immediately as soon as we found out, but could never figure out how to bring it up without hurting him. I don't think he remembers what we told him after the tree incident. Plus, Rosalie is already hurting and we didn't want to see more pain.

We explain all about Mr. Hale keeping his job and Mrs. Hale thrilled to be gaining wealthy relations through the arranged marriage and higher social status. We reiterated this was not what Rosalie wants. We even told of her idea of riding the rails.

We don't, however, bring up the slap or the cussing we were witness to. Emmett would cause bodily injury to Royce for having dared to hurt Rosalie in any way shape or form. He would only get himself arrested. We just can't tell him everything. If I'm being honest, I'm selfish and don't want to risk that happening to him. We would miss him too much.

When Rosalie's name is called, you can hear her parents and the King's cheering for her. We all remain silent when Rosalie accepts her diploma.

It only means she's so much closer to getting married. She doesn't want a big deal made today anyway.

She glances up and out into the crowd and her eyes seek and find Emmett's. He nods to her and one of the most beautiful of smiles breaks across her face. It seems as if half the crowd searches, to see who it is, who has magically transformed the solemn girl, into the breathtaking beauty. Emmett maintains eye contact with her for only moments, but it's enough to make her mother scowl and Royce looks annoyed from his seat of graduates. That look is better on him then the arrogant insolent one he usually wears. I feel like sticking my tongue out at him but I have some manners in such a crowded area. _Just barely!_

Jessica Stanley takes the opportunity to sidle up next to Emmett and places her hand on his bicep. Emmett immediately stiffened, but it was too late. Rosalie looks down to her favorite spot somewhere on the ground again and moves back to her seat.

Alice and I wait for Rosalie's and the King's family to finish with their congratulations after the ceremony is over so we can have a moment alone with her. We give her flowers as we walk her away from the families and speak about how next time it will be our turn to graduate.

Our wandering leads us to the back of the auditorium where Emmett and Jessica are. When we're close, we hear Jessica trying to sound alluring, "You know Emmett, we've never really have had a chance to get to know one another. What do you think about coming over for Sunday dinner this weekend?"

Rosalie stops immediately.

Emmett, not knowing we're right beside him replies, "Why would you think I would ever have an interest in getting to know you now, Jessica, when I've never showed interest before?"

Jessica, not being the brightest bulb in the bunch, doesn't understand the rhetorical question for the subtle insult it is. "Well Emmett, since Rosalie is no longer available, I just wanted you to know I wouldn't be opposing to your attentions," she simpers and starts rubbing up on his bicep again.

Emmett gently pulls her hand away. "Stop touching me that way, Jessica. We aren't going to get to know each other better, nor am I coming to dinner. Thank you for the invitation. I already have plans."

He turns around to walk away, but stops as he comes face to face with Rosalie. Both of them just stare at each other. It's as if they're both afraid the other might soon disappear. Emmett finally exhales loudly. "Rosalie, how are you?" he whispers.

"Good, now with you're here," Rosalie's voice is barely audible. She reaches for his hands, and he instantly tries to hide them, but she won't let him. She examines all the scars which cover his skin, knowing they will always be a reminder of the pain she's caused him; tears appear in her eyes.

Emmett, recognizing the guilt, attempts to console her, "Don't, it's not your fault. None of this is what you wanted, I know. Please, don't cry."

Rosalie, looks from his hands in hers, then up to his face, "No, it's not what I want. But there's nothing I can do to change it. I've tried to talk to my parents, to Royce—no one cares what I want. Just know if I could change it, I would."

Emmett nods to her. "I know Rosalie, I know. Can I ask for one thing?" he inquires. Rosalie nods in response. "Can I give you a hug?"

With a welcoming smile on her face, she nods, yes.

Emmett gently wraps his arms around her, holding her to him. "Congratulations on graduating, Rosalie. You deserve the best things in life, and I hope someday you get them," he quietly says in her ear. We all know he isn't speaking about her marriage. And, it's probably the closest thing to, I love you, he's ever said.

"You deserve the best too Emmett. I just wish it was me giving it to you," Rosalie replies. She releases him then, turns and walks away—toward her family, so as not to cause any trouble with Royce.

H~~H

**Royce**

I can't believe the little reunion I just had to witness. Rose is comfortable with Emmett touching her when she only stiffens or flinches when I do.

As of today, I'm now a partner in my father's bank. My family has money. I'm very good looking, if I do say so myself. One look in the mirror tells me so. I can have any woman I want and I have. I have been with most of the girls my age— except for the Swan sisters or Rose.

I let my gaze fall on Isabella. I would really like to hit the sheets with Isabella. She's almost as beautiful as Rose. She has those gorgeous stimulating brown eyes and an even better body then Rose. Where Rose is tall and svelte, Isabella has full breasts, a slim waistline and those gently sloping hips. Every part of her would be a handful. Yeah, I would love to get to know Isabella's body better.

Hell, Rose is acting like such a cold fish. I already picture her as lifeless as a statue as I penetrate her. I'll thaw her though, eventually, but until then, I'll probably have to set Lauren up as my mistress. We know each other so intimately—we're like one body. Lauren just has to get over the fact I'm marrying Rose. To say she was angry when I told her of my plans to marry Rose is a gross understatement. She turned into such a shrew for about a week. But I knew she couldn't stay mad at me for long though. She wants me too much.

I wish Rose had an ounce of passion in that beautiful body of hers. I know Isabella has passion, I've seen it. I'll bet she would be an excellent lover. All these thoughts run through my mind as I observe Emmett and Rose in a warm embrace. Under my breath I speak my thoughts.

"Maybe Lauren can talk to Rose before the wedding and tell her what I like, what I expect and how to please me." I look around and see Lauren looking at me with her hooded gaze and subtle smile. Yeah, she's ready for some action. I smile, nod and wink. It's our signal, to let her know that I'll be seeing her soon.

H~~H

**Bella**

As Emmett, Alice and I watch Rosalie walk away, Royce comes up behind us.

"She sure is one fine piece of ass don't you think Emmett," he speaks just loud enough for us to hear.

Alice and I stare at him, shocked by his boldness. Emmett turns to face him and I feel sure fists are going to fly. "You take care of her, Royce. She's a lady and should be treated as such." Emmett simply states the facts.

Royce smirks at Emmett, shrugging his shoulders. "She'll be my wife and all women screw the same—lady or not."

We all know he is trying to bait Emmett, and by some miracle, he doesn't take it. "If you treat her well, I won't have a problem. You treat her any less than she deserves and we will see how long she remains your wife."

"Is that a threat?" Royce asks.

Emmett just levels his eyes to Royce's and holds his stare. "There is no threat. Nobody can hold on to someone or something, if it's not treated right. That's just the facts of life—you would do well to remember it."

Royce looks a little confused. Obviously, he failed in his attempt to rile Emmett. By the look on his face, it seems he's still trying to figure out if he was threatened or not. You could tell he isn't sure. As he's still pondering Emmett words, Emmett turns to us, "You ready to go?"

We nod and follow Emmett out. We don't say anything for a while on the drive home; we're almost there when Alice finally speaks. "I'm so proud of you, Emmett. You could have hit him for his rudeness alone; instead you were the bigger man."

Emmett, lost in thought takes a while to respond. "Someday, she will wear pink."

I just smile softly, but Alice beams. "That she will, Emmett—that she will."

H~~H

**June 25th,**

My immediate family attends what is being touted as the wedding of the decade. It's being attended by not only those high on the social ladder of Savannah, but also the Governor of the State, plus many high and mighty judges, bankers, politicians and members of old family money.

Alice and I are able to make our way to see Rosalie before the ceremony—but only for a few minutes. When we see her, we know immediately something is terribly wrong.

Rosalie has escaped her Mother, who is all a flutter with last minute adjustments to Rosalie's hair, dress and invitees, as if this was her wedding.

The conversation centers around Rosalie venting on how Lauren Mallory had cornered her earlier in the day. She spent fifteen minutes trying to instruct Rosalie on all things to be found in the marriage bed but more importantly, according to Lauren, what Royce would like and expect.

Shocked Lauren would have the audacity to speak these things to her, on her wedding day, Rosalie, asked the only thing she could think of. "How would you know?"

Without any remorse, Lauren promptly informed Rosalie, she and Royce have been together for the last year and a half. She also bitterly stated, "This should be my wedding." Then she continued her little diatribe with, "As far as I'm concerned, until I find someone else that can satisfy me as well as Royce does, I will continue to satisfy him." To which Rosalie had nothing to say to her.

"What has my life become? I never wanted this marriage, you know this! Why is this happening to me? What have I ever done to deserve this?" Rosalie asks of Alice and me. But before we even have a chance to comfort her, her mother can be heard calling her.

Words of comfort which usually roll easily from Alice's tongue fail her. So we do the only thing we can do. We give her a brief hug to try, in some way, to let her know we care about her.

Her mother interrupts our moment, announcing Rosalie's father is preparing to walk her down the aisle; but she still wants to give some last minute adjustment to Rosalie's makeup, so we need to go. _Now!_

We're dismissed and didn't even get a chance to say good bye.

We leave Rosalie and find our parents, but we don't say anything. We must have matching pairs of worried eyes. Our mother quirks her brow at us, as if asking, "What's wrong?" but neither of us give her an answer.

I have never attended a wedding before, but from stories of my parents, fairytales and from those who have been to a few, I have to say this wedding is the strangest. Interestingly enough, it is not just from my opinion. I can hear the whispers when it's noticed that Rosalie doesn't have a maid of honor or a single bridesmaids. To my way of thinking, it's as if she didn't want to tarnish any of her friends with her humiliation.

Royce, however, has Jacob Black as his best man—which surprises us—and five groomsmen, all laughing out loud and sharing jokes. For the life of me, I never knew Royce or Jacob even liked each other. They always seemed antagonistic towards the other. Now they look like old friends.

This is very confusing to me; I don't know why, but something just isn't right.

But then again, this whole day is strange!

When the music starts for Rosalie to commence her walk, everyone stands. Rosalie walks stiff and emotionless, never smiling nor acknowledging anyone, "She reminds me of a mannequin, so lifeless," I whisper to Alice as her father guides her past us down the aisle.

Alice agrees, "Or a Snow Queen, letting everyone who remembers this day just how cold she is to this marriage." Yes, it's exactly what she is; she's become a Snow Queen—regal, controlled, defiant and frigid.

Truth be told, when they're announced as man and wife, I'm puzzled. No one hears her say "I do." And everyone is whispering about it. What she gave was a shrug of her shoulders which basically stated, "I don't have a choice, but I'll be _damned_, if I say I do."

I'm so proud of her for this simple rebellious act. But Royce, his family and Rosalie's are not pleased at all. _Serves them right!_

The wedding party, family, friends and guests all move outside from the church for the reception held alongside it. A huge tent is set-up, with the sides rolled up. The day is beautiful and the air smells sweet. All through the toasting, meal and cake cutting, Rosalie remains silent and looks like a marble figurine.

On the dance floor, their first dance as man and wife; Rosalie looks regal and statue still while Royce looks cold and menacing. When other guests start dancing, Jacob Black is immediately by my side, requesting a dance. I decline. He's not happy and lets quite a few of the groomsmen know. Mike Newton decides to take his chance in asking next, and again I decline by shaking my head, no. Luckily, at this point, my family is thankfully ready to take our leave.

We try to speak to Rosalie once more but her Mother, acting as a guard dog, and wouldn't allow us another word with her. I do get a glimpse of Rosalie's hard and empty features and follow her gaze. There on the dance floor, Royce and Lauren are in an embrace which should be illegal in public. I truly feel, this union of the Snow Queen—Ice Dragon will not last six months, if a day. I hurt for Rosalie. _No one deserves this._


	8. Shivers

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better, a wonderful wordsmith and saint. Her stories based on The Hunger Games are really good! Check them out!**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in PM's and reviews. I really appreciate your thoughts and critiques. And yes, there really is an Edward Cullen in this story. You will meet him soon. :)**

**Chapter 7 **

**Shivers**

**Summer July 1st to September 30th 1932**

**Bella**

**July**

Summertime is usually one of my favorite times of the year. There's no school and I get to spend time with my family. And I especially enjoy the time I spend with Charlie, working with the crops—both those for profit and those from the family garden.

This particular summer is extremely hot and dry; we're in a drought. Water is still available in our area, but we have to be careful with the watering of the crops. Our well and springs have never run dry, but with the increase in population in surrounding towns, you just never know nowadays the likely hood of it happening.

Alice and I spend many hours swimming in the springs by our home. It's so refreshing and relaxing during the summer heat.

We also spend time working on our clothes for the coming school year. And fortunately, the new style of dress has a shorter hem length than what we've been wearing. Also, tops and dresses which have a bare back and tie behind the neck during the warm days are popular. This, according to a magazine article, has more to do with fabric being so expensive, unemployment being so high and the fact people are not able to afford new clothes, then an actual fashion statement.

This same article went on to state, with the depression continuing, and since more people are out of work, unemployment is around 13,000,000, which is about 23 percent of the work force. It won't be a surprise for dresses get even shorter.

I think I have pretty much stopped growing at 5'4" and I still don't believe Alice will reach 5'. Currently, she's holding at 4' 11 ½". She insists the extra 1/2" is important, but I just grin at her, rub her head and laugh.

So with a little adjustment to the hem and a few little changes to the dresses we had, it's as if we have a brand new wardrobe. We're very proud, our sewing skill can help our family out, though it's only in a small way. Not to say, Charlie would have denied us new material. We just have the attitude from the old sayings "waste not, want not" or "a penny saved is a penny earned". Besides, who are we trying to impress? Certainly not Jacob, Mike, Eric or Tyler. _That's the truth!_

Pants for women are also now en vogue and I'm in heaven because of it. I have never been into fashion, but I'm currently enjoying that pants and short pants for women and girl's is becoming the new thing. I enjoy wearing my Levi's and boots. Charlie bought me my first pair of jeans when I was six years old because I couldn't get the soil and grass stains out of my dresses. I didn't complain about it, but Renee did when she looked at me wearing them, "You look like a savage." Every year I get a new pair and the joy on my face is a picture of transcendence. The soft cotton fabric of the jeans is so comfortable. And when holes get worn into the knees, we make short pants from them. They're great for splashing around in the springs or even working in the family garden in the hot days of summer. Unfortunately, though, I can't wear them to school.

Since we haven't personally been to town in quite some time, we only hear the occasional gossip from some of the ladies who come by to spend time with my mother and her quilting group. You should hear how some of the ladies laugh. Charlie says, "They sound like hens cackling."

We have heard through the grapevine, Rosalie and Royce have moved into their new home. All the ladies seem to agree—it's not a happy marriage.

I've heard some talk of Royce and Rosalie having various dinner parties but when the actual event occurs, Rosalie seems to excuse herself from the activities, while Lauren acts as their hostess.

One woman even said, "Lauren is such a dear friend to Rosalie, helping her out all the time."

Sometimes, I wonder if the townspeople are really that naïve or if it's easier to ignore what's staring them in the face.

Another woman shared, she heard Lauren was now living with the Kings—and had a ridiculous fantasy as to why. "Maybe Rosalie is with child and sweet Lauren wants to help her friend."

Hearing this, I search the house for Alice. I find her in our sitting room and tell her what I heard. "Maybe the women don't want to make waves because Mr. King holds the mortgages on so many of the homes around here," she sighs with sad eyes. I don't know the reason why, but what I do know is Rosalie must be miserable.

H~~H

**August**

Jacob Black, Mike Newton and even Tyler Crowley have shown up at various times during the summer and received invites to join us for dinner. Not from me or Alice, mind you—_from our parents._ It's moments like these when I wonder if my parents enjoy torturing Alice and I.

_What have we ever done to them? I thought they loved us?_

At best, we learn all the social graces in welcoming an unwanted guest, and learn the 'art of conversation' as my mother calls it. At worst, it's annoying to try to stave off any additional attention which gets thrown mine and Alice's way. I am beginning to think this, in itself, is an art form.

Alice laughed at me during the time Mike Newton was here. She, Charlie and Renee were amazed and amused, at how I still have never said a word to him, and yet, the conversation ran smoothly.

"It's because you speak everything you need to say with your expressions and he knows when to move on to other topics," my mother said.

"Well, I guess they don't speak well enough for him to understand to move on and just leave me alone." I grumbled. They just laugh at me. _Not what I was hoping for._

Then because I was irritated with them, I teased Alice about Eric not showing up, because he's afraid of the mighty mite. She stuck her tongue out at me and I feel slightly vindicated.

H~~H

Now, at the end of August, Charlie has been in contact with Mr. Cullen. The tariffs are still in place—so the same plan as the last three year is in the works. Once again, Charlie discusses it with Alice and me to ensure we understand the risks and we're comfortable with the idea. We are, so the discussion is short.

The longer discussion, is the idea of our parents going to visit the Cullen family. They haven't seen them in seventeen years and would dearly enjoy spending time with them and visiting Europe. They want us to come, of course, but after the longest discussion, Alice and I convinced them this is a time just for them.

They never had a honeymoon and have been married over twenty years. Alice and I hold fast to our argument of their need, at least this once, just for themselves. Seriously, when might this opportunity present itself to them again?

Alice and I both think it's very romantic—although we would never tell Charlie this. But with Renee we do. She just laughs and thinks we are too sweet. But, by the look in her eyes, we know we've made the right decision.

Mrs. Cope will be in charge of the house with Mr. McCarty in charge of the property, while my parents are away.

The few times we go into town we see Jessica Stanley. She heard about Mike Newton coming to our house having dinner, and she wants details. It's then we realize she's infatuated with Mike. Alice not one to miss an opportunity to help me, immediately begins to give Jessica suggestions on how to attract Mike. I throw in very little, considering I don't understand how I attracted him in the first place.

One day, while in town, we spot Rosalie. She's with her guardian, also known as her mother, so we can't speak to her. She won't even look at us; instead she gazes off into the distance or down to the ground, her Snow Queen mask firmly in place. It's heart breaking to see. This isn't our Rosalie.

H~~H

**September 13th**

My 17th birthday is a small celebration with my family, which includes Emmett, Mr. McCarty and Mrs. Cope. The uninvited guests are the Blacks. But they did bring along Harry, Seth and Leah Clearwater who I'm always happy to see.

Alice baked my favorite cake—German chocolate with coconut-pecan frosting. I can almost cry for joy with each mouthful. She's amazing.

For the second part of her gift, she sits at the piano playing the "Happy Birthday to You Song," for me. It immediately brings back thoughts of our Grandparents in happier times, though I do wish they were here.

Once again, Billy Black brings up the subject of uniting the two families. "Girls Isabella's age are now starting to marry. You don't want to become long in the tooth now, do you Isabella?" he asks, glancing at me as we eat our dessert.

I sputter and almost chock on the water I'm drinking. Just as I'm able to hurl an insult _or the glass,_ at him for that remark, Renee steps in laughing lightly, "I wasn't married until I was 18 years old, Billy, you know this. Was I 'long in the tooth' as you put it? I think Bella has plenty of time yet." She smiles fondly at me; it's her way of calming me down.

Billy doesn't say anything because we all know he still covets Renee. And she still isn't "long in the tooth." Truth be told, Renee still looks beautiful and youthful. I can only hope I look as well as she does when I'm her age.

Emmett asks me to open my mouth wide so he could check my teeth. Instead, I gnashed them together and punch him in the shoulder, while staring daggers at him.

Emmett just laughs, "Spunky little thing aren't you? Or was it your love tap?"

This time it's Jacob who chokes on his water. He glares at Emmett, which causes him to laugh even harder, and to wink at me. I laugh this time. I really love Emmett. Charlie chuckles at us and gives Renee a hug.

H~~H

The harvest is in full swing and the plantation is again a hive of activity. This is the second year the Brandon fields have been planted with cotton. Less corn and peanuts have been planted this year to make room for more cotton, so the yield is larger than ever. The seed is being saved for next year's planting from all three plants as usual.

Emmett is more involved than ever before—he's definitely earning his wages as foreman assistant. You can tell he's proud of himself for overseeing the operation which is handed to him. He's also good with the regular laborers and the sharecroppers.

If things keep going the way they are, I'm afraid we'll lose Emmett to another plantation. He is so skilled in his working knowledge of the Plantation. You can see the pride in Mr. McCarty's eyes.

Charlie spends long hours with me going over every financial aspect of the Plantation. He explains how last year's sale has paid for this year's laborers. We don't just live harvest to harvest like some farmers do, paying their laborers after the sale of their crops, in good faith. We have a buffer.

There is money set aside for the household needs, located in his locked desk drawer here in his office. The balance of the profit from last year's sale after all is said and done, is in a safe in the library. Charlie is a firm believer in 'not keeping all his eggs in one basket' or keeping everything in one place. He definitely doesn't use a bank, especially now, with so many of them folding.

H~~H

School has officially started. Alice has been accelerating her studies over the last couple of years so we can graduate at the same time. She doesn't like the idea of going to school without me now with Rosalie and Emmett having graduated, plus, Angela and Ben are also graduating this year.

I'm positive she would easily make new friends with her winning ways but she really has no interest. This is fine by me. She's my best friend and I would miss her terribly during the day.

We've only been in school for a week and I'm getting my books ready, to leave quickly at the end of class to meet Alice at our bench for lunch, when I look up and notice Mike Newton, waving his hand trying to get my attention.

Not having a clue as to why he wants to talk to me, and really not caring, as soon as the bell rang I get up to go. Mike jogs from his seat and catches up to me before I'm out the door.

"Bella, wait please," he asks.

I stop just before the doorway. Jessica Stanley pushes into my shoulder with hers, jostling me as she goes outside. It would seem that she's not pleased with Mike wanting to speak to me. _Well, I'm not pleased, either._

As the classroom empties out, Mike begins, "I wanted to ask you something."

I just quirk my eyebrow up at him and wait.

"You know, I've never seen you at any of the dances," he states the obvious.

I wrinkle my brow, staring up at him, trying to figure out where he's going with this.

Suddenly, his face has gained a light blush on his cheeks. "Well, I was hoping you would go to the homecoming dance with me?" I know my face must look incredulous as I stare up at him. "Jessica asked if I was going, and wants to go with me. But, I didn't answer her, because I was hoping you would say, yes."

I look away from him then. Now I'm a little mad! No wonder Jessica gave me the shoulder jam—she probably thinks I want him. _Oh, how wrong she is._ I look back up at Mike, my mouth in a grim line and just shake my head, no, very firmly.

"Bella, c'mon, just talk to me and tell me why?" Mike begs.

I just roll my eyes, then glare at him, turn and walk out of the room. Then slam right into the chest of Jacob. _Can this day get any worse?_

He grabs my shoulders so I won't fall and at his touch the chill runs down my spine.

"Whoa, are you alright Bella? Was Newton giving you trouble?" he asks concerned. I looked up at him, turn to look behind me to look at Mike, and then back again, noticing the angry stare he's giving Mike. I shake my shoulders from the chill and to get Jacob to release me, which he does. I just shake my head at the two of them, before I leave them both to their staring contest.

I can hear Jacob asking with a snarl in his voice as I walk away. "What were you doing Mike?"

"It's none of your business!" Mike answers defensively.

I run out of the building not wanting to hear the rest of the stimulating conversation. What is with those two? Why can't they both just leave me alone?

As I reach our usual table, Alice looks at me stating the obvious, "So, you didn't say, yes."

I stare at her for a brief second before answering. "What made that fool think I would go to a dance with him?"

Alice laughs along with Angela. "Well, he did have dinner with us, and you know with all the flirting you did, it was enough to convince him he had a chance."

Right at this exact moment, Jessica and Jacob walk by our table. Jessica's glare is enough to put me six feet under. Jacob looks at me like I just left him at the altar.

I look back at Alice, who's giggling, and hiss at her. "What are you trying to do? Get me killed?"

She laughs again. "Look at it this way, now Jessica will try harder to get Mike and Jacob might stay away for a while. This is a win-win for you," Alice explains for our little group alone.

I stare at her skeptically as hope starts to build in my chest. Maybe she's right! Then I'm laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Which becomes contagious as Alice, Angela and even Ben are busting at the seams with the hilarity of it all.

Lord, I love Alice.

As the laughter dies down I notice Angela and Ben are sitting really close together. As in, you can't get much closer unless you're sharing skin. I notice hands, which normally would be on the bench top on are also missing. I just gaze at them for a few seconds and then look under the bench. Sure enough, they're holding hands. I look back up at the both of them as their cheeks start to blush. "Well, this is a new development. When did this happen?" I probe, raising my eyebrows.

Angela now has a full blush and shyly looks up at Ben. Ben gazes at her with a warm smile as he spoke to Alice and me, "Yesterday after church, I asked Angela if she would go to the dance with me."

Alice and I both grin at them and speak in unison. "It couldn't happen to two nicer people!" We turn to look at each other, laughing at ourselves.

Ben and Angela join in the laughter and both in harmony say, "You two do that all the time," Then they look at each other and we all roar with laughter.

My last class of the day is shared with little Miss Hissy Fit Stanley. All throughout class, instead of learning about the growth cycles of various plants, I'm entertained by the huffs and puffs or the devil snake eyed glares of Jessica. I find it humorous she would be this put out with Mike asking me to the dance because she knows I don't like him. Be mad at him, not me. Some people are just painful to be in the same room with.

As class is letting out, she once again tries to push into my shoulder. This time though, I'm ready and move back out of her way. The extra momentum she's put into her movement, causes her to lose her balance and she falls to the floor. The students who witness the incident, start laughing at her.

She burst into tears, gets up from the floor and runs out of the room. Lucky for me, it will probably be the last time she tries to get physical with me.

H~~H

The cotton is baled and loaded onto the train, along with the peanuts and corn, to make its way to the port of Savannah.

The time has come for our parents to leave. With their baggage already loaded onto the train by a porter, we say our goodbyes. We're so happy for them. They give hugs and kisses with last minute parental advice for Alice and me. We just grin. We give them our own advice of have fun, promise to write and be good now.

Of course, we're going to miss them but this is an adventure of a lifetime.

With Emmett driving us back home, we can't stop talking about all the sights they're sure to see.

The house becomes too quiet, so we keep busy with canning with Mrs. Cope. All the vegetables from the summer garden have lived out the season; I save some of the vegetables for the seeds which will be used for next year's planting. This year, Emmett helps me turn the soil while planting the winter garden. Usually it's the whole family working it, but with Charlie and Renee gone, Emmett's offer to help is huge.

My muscles are aching as I grumble jokingly at him, "I should demand your help at this since you eat so much." He flexes his muscles, gives me a wink and gets back to work.

Of course, we still have school, homework and friends. Jessica Stanley is nicer since it seems she and Mike went to homecoming together. I'm still not sure if they're a couple or not.

At school, we occasionally hear gossip about the Kings. People say they only see Rosalie around town with her mother, but never with Royce.

Royce, however, can be seen with Lauren all the time. It seems she has been seen bringing him his lunch at the bank or together at the movies or in a restaurant.

Neither Alice nor I have been able to talk to Rosalie. One night last week, Alice woke up from a bad dream and crawled into bed with me. She dreamt Rosalie ran away. It wouldn't surprise me if this should happen. She can't possibly be happy if she's never seen in public with Royce.

H~~H

We receive letters from our parents filled with lots of wonderful exciting things. The Cullen's were welcoming and just as warm and easy to be with as they remembered them. The couples were enjoying visiting the sites of London together and have taken in the theater, an opera and various museums. Our parents were enjoying some of the street names they've seen. Londoner's were so literal when naming streets; Bread Street, Milk Street, Fish Hill Street, and Garlick Hill, all dealing with the selling of those exact items. In a way it made perfect sense.

Renee always adds little tidbits about their son Edward such as how handsome he is, or intelligent, nice or funny, etc. How he will be taking over the business from Carlisle someday. She even went so far as to describe his hair and eyes in great detail. You would think she was trying to arrange a marriage for Alice or me. This is so unlike Renee, but we just laugh at her inadequate matchmaking skills. _If that's what this is._

Alice and I are in the parlor mending some socks when we have an unexpected guest. I answer the door and invite him in. He seems a bit on the nervous side as I ask if he would like a drink.

"No, thank you, but no Bella. Look, I know your parents are gone, but I need you to do something for me," he nervously states.

"Sure, what can I do for you Mr. Clearwater," I reply.

He fishes around in his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope. "I want you to give this to your dad when he returns from his trip. I need you to put it somewhere safe. Would you do that for me, Bella, please?" he asks anxiously.

"I can put it in the safe if you like Mr. Clearwater," I say, concern evident in my voice.

"That would be just fine," he speaks again on the nervous side which is now making me anxious.

I turn and walk into the library and he follows me in. I remove the fireplace screen we have sitting on the floor in one corner which hides the safe from plain view. I kneel down on the floor and tumble the knob to the correct combination. When I open it, I turn to Mr. Clearwater and reach out my hand to take the envelope.

"Whatever you do Bella, I'm begging neither you nor Alice read this letter. Can you promise me this?" I look into the eyes of a man whom I have known all my life, my father's best friend and can clearly see the stress that seems to emanate from him.

Alice appears behind him and gently lays her hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Of course, Mr. Clearwater, we promise to not look at the letter," she reassures him by looking him straight in the eyes.

I nod my head but think a verbal reply is more in order. "You have nothing to worry about Mr. Clearwater. This is personal business between you and Charlie. We respect that."

Mr. Clearwater hands me the envelope and I put it in the back of the safe; close the door, turn the handle and roll the knob. I try to turn the handle insuring the safe door is locked and turn to see the stress has left Mr. Clearwater's shoulders.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like something to drink, Mr. Clearwater?" I try again.

He just shakes his head, no, gives Alice and I brief hugs then turns and walks out the door from the library and then the house.

Alice and I just stand there, wondering what that was about. Then both of us shiver as we look at each other. There is no need for words. We know something very wrong.


	9. Meet Edward Cullen

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better, a wonderful wordsmith and saint. Her stories based on The Hunger Games are really good! Check them out!**

T**hank you for the continued encouragement in PM's and reviews. I really appreciate your thoughts and critiques. Hope the holidays bring peace and joy to you and yours. I hope you enjoy this little gift. **

**Chapter 8 **

**Meet Edward Cullen**

**October 1932**

**Edward**

Standing here in the games room, I have to say I have never seen so much activity in my home. You would think it was royalty, about to descend upon us, not the cotton farmers from America. Even the billiards table and card tables has been polished to a remarkable shine.

I have not seen my parents this happy in years. I vaguely remember Charlie and Renee Swan, but I do remember the Plantation. Though it was my only visit to the United States, still to this day, I don't think I have ever enjoyed a holiday or myself so much.

The Plantation was a magical place. Its fields of cotton, as far as the eye could see, where I played with the bolls for hours. Pulling peanuts fresh out of the ground, then breaking open the shells and eating the nuts raw. Playing with the corn stalks after the corn was removed. Pretending to be a knight, saving the damsel, from the evil fire breathing dragon.

Then there were the animals. I loved watching the women collect the eggs. Grabbing them right from underneath the hens. I remember chasing the rooster and hens around, and then the rooster chasing me around; when I was given the feed to spread for them.

Maybe it was Renee who taught me how to hypnotize the rooster. Circling one finger around in front of his eyes and slowly moving it towards his beak. He would stand stock still and then I could pick him up. After I became good at hypnotizing him, I would put the rooster in various hiding places. Like my parent's closet or the pantry or in a big pot with a lid on it, which was kept by the stove. I laughed at the shocked looks that came from the adults at the unexpected rooster surprise. I never got into trouble; they were just amused by the pranks of a precocious three year old.

Trying to learn how to milk a cow was both fun and dangerous; you have to watch out for those back hoofs. Playing with the little pigs was also enjoyable. And I always tried to imitate the noises from all of the animals.

There are so many happy memories, from my time at the Swans that still to this day, it makes me smile.

Oh, don't even get me started on the food. It was so different and yet so good.

Letting my imagination run away, thinking of a time long gone, I pretend to once again slay the dragon with my trusty corn stalk. I thrust my corn stalk/sword into the beast's heart, when I hear a snort of disgust behind me. I immediately turn around to see Tanya with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall, with her brows raised waiting for an explanation to my antics.

What am I going to say? Yes, here I am, a 20 year old man pretending to slay dragons? I don't think so. It's easier to ignore her then let her ruin my pleasant thoughts.

"Tanya, I didn't hear you come in," I use my evasive maneuver instead, "How are you?"

She looks at me for a moment, hoping to get an answer but knows one is not coming.

Tanya is a beautiful woman. Tall with a willowy figure, long golden blond hair and wide ice blue eyes. She has been taught proper etiquette and knows how to be the perfect hostess. She is the envy of all; women want to look like her and men who want to have her.

She, for some reason, has latched onto me. I'm not trying to be vein, but I know I am good looking and can have any woman I want. I can also be charming, and I'm intelligent and come from a wealthy family. I am described as a 'good catch.' And to be honest, I've had my fair share of women.

Yes, I perused Tanya in the beginning, but it didn't take long to understand there wasn't any love connection. She serves my needs and she gains her pleasure. It also didn't take me long to realize she can be as icy as her eyes. These last six month of our nine months together have definitely started to wear on my nerves. I've given her ample opportunity to move on to someone more suited for her but she's stubborn and thinks I will change my mind.

She snaps me out of my musings. "I'm fine Edward. Are you done playing whatever game that was?"

Feeling slightly embarrassed, but mostly annoyed with her coldness, I simply shrug my shoulders.

"Well, let's hope so. The farmer Swans should be arriving momentarily and you wouldn't want to be seen acting so childishly," she chides in her most condescending tone, which she's famous for. She has already let it be known to me, the excitement Carlisle and Esme feel towards these "backwoods country folk," is beyond ridiculous. This only increases my exasperation at her; thinking herself better than the American visitors and trying to put me in my place at the same time.

Irritated I snap, "Tanya, you're here as a guest, I expect you to be polite to our visitors. They're not only business associates, but friends of the family. You weren't even invited here this evening."

Right on cue, my mother Esme pokes her head into the room with a smile on her face. When she sees me and Tanya, it instantly fades.

"Edward, dear, they're coming up the drive. We want you to be with us when we greet them." She turns her gaze to Tanya. "Hello, Tanya. Will you be joining us as well?"

My parents don't care for Tanya—as Esme just subtly hinted at with her question. They're polite but never inviting. They've been reserved with Tanya since the very beginning. My parents are extremely warm, gracious, welcoming people and everyone loves them, but I can feel the animosity they hold for Tanya. Not that I blame them. It's past time I part ways with her. I'll bide my time until the Swans and my parents start their trip. I don't need them to hear any of the repercussions, I'm sure will take place, before their holiday.

Tanya plasters a sincere looking smile on her face, as she says, "Greetings Esme. And yes, I wanted to be here to welcome your guests." It's interesting how well I know this woman. It's so hard not to ask her to just leave now. But I can't with the guests now here—and she knows it. What's her game?

Tanya slips her hand around my arm and we walk towards the foyer. I see my father there, shaking hands with a handsome, tall gentleman who must be Charlie Swan. He then turns towards an incredibly beautiful woman, where they exchange hugs and greetings.

My mother, who is normally the model of decorum, sprints towards the couple. When the woman sees Esme, she runs to her laughing as they hug and kiss cheeks like two little girls. I have never seen Esme Cullen like this. Both women have tears of joy streaming down their smiling faces.

After their reunion, Charlie with a huge grin on his face, comes over and lifts Esme off the ground in a giant bear hug, where again Esme just squeals, like a giddy young woman. It's the height of improper behavior for her usual self, but I have never seen her look so delighted.

I glance to Carlisle, to see how he's reacting to this side of Esme, and see a look of unadulterated joy on his face. It's then I fully comprehend, how much this is not only a business partnership, but a once in a life time, true bond of friendship. I envy it.

A low tsk of disgust comes from behind me and as I turn to look at her, Tanya rolls her eyes at the immodest display. I raise a brow at her, warning her to be quite and not ruin this moment. She takes heed of the warning.

A throat clearing from my father catches my attention as he makes the introductions, "Charlie and Renee, I would like to reintroduce you to our son, Edward. I think he's grown since the last time you saw him," he chuckles with delight.

Charlie lets go of my mother and walks up to me; we stand toe to toe as he puts his hand out to shake mine. He has dark brown hair and deep brown eyes seeped in wisdom, with a generous, sincere smile. I take his hand. "Mr. Swan, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"Edward, call me Charlie. I remember you as a happy, curious little boy," he replies with an amused look in his eyes.

I grin back at him. "I was just remembering earlier today the wonderful time I had on your Plantation."

"Slay anymore dragons?" he asks with a wicked grin.

I laugh, a little in embarrassment. He looks at me with a smirk, as if he knows I was doing just that not more than fifteen minutes ago. "Not all of them—but there's still time," I shrug my shoulders and smirk back.

Charlie laughs at this, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Stop teasing him Charlie," Renee says with a loving look at her husband.

She turns and gives me a hug. "Edward, you were such a beautiful little boy and now look at you! Quite the handsome young man you are." I have never been one to show affection towards people other than my family—_just ask Tanya_. And I don't know what it is, but I can't help returning the hug to this warm, gentle woman. There's something about the way she smells, which seems to bring forth a feeling of being with family; as if I belong with their family as well as mine. Maybe it's just remembering my time spent with them when I was younger. Whatever it is, I embrace it.

When I let go of her, I remember my manners. "Charlie and Renee Swan, this is Miss Tanya Denali—a friend to the family." I do not introduce her as my girlfriend or as she's hoping in the very near future, my fiancée.

She briefly glares at me for the lack of a more intimate title but puts on a forced, charming smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Swan, welcome to England." Lord, she's acting like some bloody queen and the Swans are her serfs to do her biding.

Charlie and Renee simply incline their heads. "Thank you, Miss Denali." Renee speaks for them both.

This is beyond uncomfortable. Tanya with her icy formal greeting seems to have frozen the warmth right out of this reunion.

Esme strives for the return of the relaxed atmosphere. "Let me show you to your room Renee. We'll have your luggage brought up there," she suggests, taking her hand. "Carlisle, why don't you take Charlie into the den and have a drink before we head into the dining room for supper?"

"That's an excellent idea, Esme! Charlie this way. What would you like to drink?" Carlisle eagerly embraces the suggestion.

I don't hear Charlie's reply as he follows Carlisle into the den and the women make their way upstairs. All of a sudden, I feel alone and empty even though Tanya is standing right next to me.

"I'm glad that is over with. They aren't near the savages I expected them to be, though you can tell that Mr. Swan is definitely a man who works with his hands. I thought his callouses would tear your mother's silk dress with their roughness. And the way that Mrs. Swan hugged you, a complete stranger, it was highly improper." Tanya criticizes, crusty and cross.

I can only gape at her. Did she not see how happy my parents are? Did she not see that I felt comfortable with these people? It felt like family had come home with the laughter and joy. Is she blind?

All I can think to ask is a resigned, "Why are you here, Tanya?"

She looks at me like I'm an imbecile. Right now I feel like one, as I wonder again why I have let this go on so long. "We need to finish the talk about our future we started this morning. That is, until you suddenly remembered you needed to be home to ready yourself for your guests."

Yes, last night I spent the night in her bed. Her parents Eleazar and Carmen don't seem to think it improper for their daughter to have someone spend the night with her. They have made mention several times about the beautiful children we would have or sly references to me being the only heir to my family's wealth. To them, I'm the perfect match for their daughter.

But this morning, as soon as she opened her mouth and started talking about our future and the plans she's made, I made my excuses to leave.

In fact, I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

"Tanya, I don't think this is the appropriate time…" I start to say.

She cuts me off. "The company has arrived, introductions made, and they're getting settled in. There is nothing more for you to do. I get the feeling there will never be an 'appropriate time' for this discussion."

I notice with irritation she doesn't even acknowledge them by their names. I don't want this to escalate here and now though. So, tampering down my annoyance, I give her what I know is one of my charming smiles. "Tanya, I promise you…" I'm about to promise Tanya we'll talk later, but I'm interrupted.

"Edward, we will be having dinner now. Please come into the dining room." Esme requests. "Are you staying, Tanya?"

The look on Tanya's face is angelic for Esme. One I don't see very often anymore and it hits me as I realize she must think I might be proposing with my incomplete sentence. This is the furthest thing from my mind.

H~~H

Supper is an enjoyable affair even with Tanya there. Esme and Renee are reminiscing about their past time together and what they plan to do while they're here. Renee brings out a few photographs of her daughters, Isabella and Alice, and passes them around the table. Esme and Carlisle are both exclaiming about how beautiful the girls are, when the pictures are passed to them. When Tanya views them her comment is, "they look wholesome." There's something about the way she says it that intrigues me to view the photographs. She finally passes them to me with an impatience, as if saying "let's get this part of the evening over with and on with our discussion to come."

The first is a lovely girl with black hair and Renee's azure blue eyes. She looks very happy and impishly adorable. The second one catches me off guard and I gasp at the beautiful girl. She has long, thick dark brown hair that surrounds a cream colored heart shaped face. Her sultry warm brown eyes, with thick dark eyelashes have mesmerized me and seem to look into my very soul; I want to drown in them. She is unbelievably gorgeous. A shy, wistful smile graces her full lips. She is one of the loveliest things I've ever seen and she takes my breath away. I've never been a romantic, but she reminds me of viewing the painting of the Madonna I saw in Paris a few years ago. So captivating, you wonder if perhaps she's looking at her lover as the portrait was being painted.

Tanya, upon hearing my gasp and noticing the attention I'm paying to the photograph, clears her throat. "It must be difficult knowing you have no sons who will take over the reins of running your Plantation," she speaks to Charlie and Renee without any preamble. "Will you have to sell someday or hope one of the girls find a suitable husband who can run it?"

Carlisle, Esme and I all stare at her. I can't believe her rudeness. I'm stunned—and so are my parents.

Luckily, Charlie and Renee seem to not mind her forwardness. Renee laughs lightly. Charlie chuckles quietly, "Bella will have no problem running the Plantation should the time come when I'm not around. She was made for the land." You could hear the pride in his statement.

"So does it mean she's more like a tomboy? Does she not have gentlemen callers?" Tanya enquires, acting as if she's concerned.

To this question, Renee laughs out loud. "Oh no dear, Bella is 100 percent all female. She has many gentlemen callers, much to her annoyance and Alice's delight. Bella, is just so much like Charlie, in the love of the land. But, her priorities are to finish school and learn more about running the Plantation; and for that, she ignores those who call on her. Even fathers' have talked about what a good match she would be for their sons. But, Bella is the type of girl who will only settle for love when the time is right, not who owns what or how much money they might have."

I chuckle to myself. I believe my mother must have told Renee about her concern and dislike of Tanya. I rather enjoy the subtle snub that Renee issued.

Then she laughs again, covering her remark, and proceeds to tell how there is one suitor by the name of Mike Newton, who has had a crush on her since her second year in school and to this day Bella has never said one word to him.

While the thought of her not ever speaking to someone who directly asks her questions is intriguing, it is also, aggravating to me. Looking at her photograph again makes me want to punch this Mike Newton in the face for some odd reason. Like I feel the need to protect her, and I have no idea why. _I just do._

The subject changes to Carlisle talking about how I'm preparing myself to take over the family business. The pride in his voice humbles me.

The conversation flows around me, where I studied, courses taken and my forays into the business world. But my thoughts are elsewhere. I think about the family business and things I've yet to learn. All of a sudden an idea hits me. I need to go to America. I want to view this Plantation again and learn the operation from beginning to end. The bonus will be the beauty I'll get to meet and learn about face to face. For this reason alone, it becomes imperative I return with the Swans.

With an ebb to the conversation I announce, "Dad, Mom, I would like to voice a proposal," I look at my parents who look slightly worried as they stare at Tanya. When I follow their stares Tanya, she looks overjoyed, while the Swans just seem curious as to what I have to say.

"I made a promise—"I hear Tanya giggle. I look at her curiously wondering why. Then I remember my words from earlier. She thinks I'm going to propose. Not bloody likely and I don't think she'll like what I say next. I really don't care anymore.

"My promise was to the both of you. I said I would make you proud when I took over the family business. Having said that, I think it would benefit me as your predecessor of said family business, if I were to journey to America with the Swan's on their return, if they'll allow it, so I can learn more about the Plantation end of the business," I announce with the hope that both families will think this is as excellent of an idea, as I do.

To say my parents are proud of my decision is an understatement. Charlie and Renee immediately say I'm more than welcome to come stay with them, learn more about the Plantation and meet their girls for as long as I like.

Tanya looks stunned and pale.

The conversation is a flurry of comments ranging from sites that Renee and Charlie need to see before they leave, to Charlie and Carlisle talking business with me, how long I should stay to fully grasp the workings of the Plantation, to departure dates, etc. It's invigorating and exciting.

That is until Tanya speaks with an edge to her voice, "Edward, what do you think you're doing? Not discussing with me your decision to go to America? What about me? What about us? I thought you were going to announce our engagement!" Her anger building as she speaks and letting everyone know it.

I feel like cold water has been splashed in my face. "Engagement?" Esme gasps out.

Embarrassed by her attitude, and with the ways she has spoken at the family dinner table with guests in attendance, I try to calm her down.

"Tanya, we can talk about this after dinner. I already told you we would." I whisper to her.

"You are talking about leaving for months without even discussing it with me, I think we should talk about it now!" she exclaimed.

"Fine!" I temper my anger, as I stand up, throwing my napkin on the table. I pull back her chair and with one hand, signaling for her to lead the way.

She huffs out of her chair, not even thanking my parents for dinner or saying good night as she stalks out of the room and into the library. I follow her in and quietly close the door.

She immediately turns to face me with her rage unmasked. "When were you going to tell me you were leaving?"

"I didn't know I was until after listening to the conversation and wanting to see this Plantation again," I tell her honestly, leveling my voice to a calm tone.

"And after looking at the photograph of that girl," she seethes.

"That girl has nothing to do with it," I retort, and realize immediately that this is an untruth. I turn to the side board as if to pour a drink so she doesn't see my face, because I do want to meet the girl in the photograph and see if she is as captivating in real life.

"I thought you were going to announce your decision to marry me."

"Tanya, I have never told you or even hinted that I want to marry you. I've never asked your parents for your hand. I've never even told you that I love you. Why would I announce a marriage proposal to my parents with guests at their table?" I ask curious as to how she could think such a thing.

"Because we're a good match for each other Edward and I love you. It's the most logical step in our relationship." She states in a matter of fact tone. It's as if she is scolding a child for not using common sense.

Then I repeat her words in my head. We're a good match together and she loves me? I can't help it. I laugh, loud and heartily.

"Tanya, you don't love me. You love the idea of me; my looks, my name, my family's position and the money it brings. I've never loved you and you've never loved anyone but yourself." I say, still laughing under my breath.

"That's not true! I gave myself to you because you said we would be good together. Have you just been toying with my affections this whole time? Pretending to care but only using me?" She spits angrily.

"You gave yourself to a few other men before I came along Tanya, did you love them also? And don't try to play some innocent maid put upon by some rouge ne'er-do-well," I'm insulted she would think I didn't know about her history.

"That's not true! You were my first," she hisses.

"Are you jesting with me? Really, Tanya, you think I fell for the little act you tried to put on? Being shy and virginal at first—then if you recall, your little charade went out the window when you said, "faster, harder, Edward." Should we go speak to Liam, Marcus, or Garrett to name a few and maybe it will jog your memory?" I'm disgusted with her dramatics.

Then, she slaps me, hard. "That's for making me feel like a whore. They at least told me they loved me. You never have, you bas…" she yells as she tries to slap me again.

I grab her hand and speak slowly with quiet rage, "At least I never lied to you. Now get out and take your hysterics elsewhere. If I ever see you again, it will be too soon."

I let go of her hand and she backs slowly towards the door. She turns and grabs the door knob, then glances over her shoulder at me one last time.

"We would have been good together. You ruined everything. Just so know, Edward, no one treats me this way. You will pay for this," She opens the door and walks out.

I'm still furious with how my evening has turned out. I walk to the sideboard, grab a bottle of cognac and a glass. I pour myself a healthy amount then turn to sit on the davenport. Looking at the liquid, I swirl it around, just trying to let my rage ease away and take a sip of the fiery drink. It burns on its way down my throat but it gives me the calm I need. A throat clears in the quiet room.

I look up to see my mother standing in the doorway. I smile and nod for her to come in, patting the cushion to sit next to me.

She comes in and sits, tilting her head so she can look me in the eye. "So I take it you aren't engaged."

I bark out a laugh, shaking my head and reassuring her, "No, I am most definitely not engaged."

A thankful smile spreads out across her face as she happily says, "Thank god. I would no more be able to tolerate her as a daughter-in-law as I would medusa as your wife. I can't stand her."

Again, I laugh out loud saying, "Really Mom, medusa? I think I have better taste than that."

"I was beginning to wonder with all the time you've spent with her. She really is a cold human being and her reputation precedes her," she muses.

"Her reputation—what do you know of her reputation?" I ask curiously.

"Oh Edward, I know of the assorted men she's been with. It was quite the shock when you started seeing her. I was worried somehow she would sink her claws into you, but I was determined to stay out of your business. You are an adult," she says as she runs her fingers up and down my arm as she used to do when I was little, soothing me.

We're quite for a few minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet. I sip my drink, then turn to look her in the eye. "I promise you, when I think I've found the one to spend the rest of my life with, I will get both your opinion and approval. Wouldn't want the women in my life not to get along, now would I?" I ask, chuckling lightly.

She swats at my arm and laughs lightly, "You'll know I don't like her when I won't give Grandma Masen's ring to you," she replies, smiling mischievously.

"Deal," I immediately agree.

I ask her where the Swans are and she says they've gone to bed after a long day of traveling. We talk about the plans they have in the works for the Swans while they're here and how happy Carlisle and her are with renewing their friendship. We discuss my plans to travel to America and the sights I might see. It's relaxing, pleasant and the perfect way to end the evening.

When I close my eyes, seeking sleep, I don't think about Tanya once. Instead, I fall asleep, dreaming about sultry soulful brown eyes and the girl who owns them.


	10. Season of Change

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better, a wonderful wordsmith and saint. Her stories based on The Hunger Games are really good! Check them out!**

T**hank you for the continued encouragement in PM's and reviews. I really appreciate your thoughts,critiques and the smiles and laughs you give me. To clear up a timeline issue, Edward is 20 and Bella just turned 17. Wishing you all a Happy and Prosperous 2013. **

**Chapter 9 **

**Season of Change**

**Winter – October 1st to December 31st 1932**

**Bella**

**October**

With our parents gone, Alice and I find ourselves enjoying being the ladies of the house. Emmett and Mr. McCarty have been busy removing and burning the dead stalks of plant material, then plowing up the fields, from sun up to sun down for most of the month of October.

Mr. McCarty and Emmett would usually eat their supper in their little house or the Foreman's Cottage. But, it's quite with only Alice, Mrs. Cope and myself here. Since Alice and I enjoy cooking, we insist they all eat with us in the dining room, as we enjoy their company.

It's fun and interesting listening to Mr. McCarty tells us stories—learning more about the things Emmett did as a child. Emmett wasn't a rambunctious child. He was a quiet, thoughtful and caring little boy. He hasn't changed in the caring part, but quiet he is not. Because they moved around quite a lot he really didn't have any pets. The one he had was a pet rat that he taught to box with Emmett's fingers being its opponent.

"The rat was fearless, standing tall on its hind legs, ready to take me down," Emmett smiles with fondness.

"How tall was tall?" Alice asks giggling.

Emmett, using his fingers to give us an idea, measures out about six inches. Then he snickers at her. "About your height."

Alice, at first narrows her eyes at him, and then shrugs her shoulders with a smile so sweet. "No dessert for you this week."

Emmett loses color from his face and quickly babbles all sorts of apologies. I suggest he get on his hands and knees. He does, shuffling around the table, up to Alice, an angelic look to his face. "I'm very sorry, Alice." Alice's bursts into laughter as do the rest of us.

And then he eats four slices of peach cobbler.

H~~H

The more time we spend with Emmett, the more I come to think of him as a renaissance man. He speaks three languages other than English: Spanish, Italian and French, or "the romance languages" as he refers to them. He also keeps us entertained with mythological stories of the ancient gods, sirens and heroes.

He enjoys talking philosophy and can quote Aristotle, Plato and Confucius. Many dinner conversations pass discussing the finer points of the Golden Rule, and how it differentiated between the Greeks, then 100 years later by Confucius, to 500 years or so later to Jesus of Nazareth.

For such a large man, Emmett is a gentle soul. One night last week, Alice and I verbally adopted him as our older, wiser brother, during one of our philosophical discussions. From the look of contentment on his features, I think he feels the same about us. We also include Mr. McCarty and Mrs. Cope as our surrogate parents. Mr. McCarty looked a little misty eyed at our declaration as he smiled gently. Mrs. Cope gave us hugs.

Of the many and varied things we discuss, only one subject remains taboo. There is the unspoken topic of Rosalie. I know he worries about her—as we all do. I don't know if he's ever heard the gossip but he never speaks of her, so we don't either.

H~~H

**November**

We have been receiving regular weekly letters from our parents. They're currently touring through France and Italy with intentions of Spain and Portugal as their next stop. The sites they mention, such as the City of Paris, the vineyards in Champagne, Rome and Lake Como sound enchanting. After each letter Alice and I sigh, thinking of when we'll get to visit these same spots. It's wonderful to know they're enjoying their time with the Cullen's.

We're invited to have Thanksgiving with the Blacks but decline the offer—explaining that we have plans already. But apparently, our declination meant an invitation to Mister Black. He and Jacob arrive unexpectedly during our Thanksgiving dinner. They intrude upon our private little gathering, making themselves right at home. It's so uncomfortable. The whole dinner conversation is centered on Mister Black insisting I start thinking of marriage now. How perfect Jacob is for me. How wealthy they are and to quit being a fool and decide already. His litany knows no bounds and his rudeness is sorely testing my ability to not ask them to leave.

Alice and Emmett chuckle at my discomfort, while I'm striving to be a polite hostess. "I currently, nor in the foreseeable future, have any plans to marry," I tell them for what must be the thousandth time. Jacob scowls at Alice and Emmett—not appreciating their merriment. As the evening progresses, Mister Black's own scowl deepens as if I have slapped him in the face for shutting him down time and time again.

Mister Black, finally sensing he needs to change the subject, asks with interest about our parent's time in Europe. "I assume you've received letters from them. Are they spending time with the Cullen's?" Knowing the history of Mister Black's confrontation with Charlie a few years' back, we evade his direct questions and tell them honestly about where they've visited.

Eventually, after they've exceeded their welcome, the Blacks leave. You can hear a loud sigh of relief for this small miracle. I think the walls even breathe with relief, from holding in so much tension. We all agree this was the most uncomfortable Thanksgiving ever and all are very thankful it's over.

H~~H

**December**

December passes quickly with school and studying for finals before the Christmas break. As I'm walking out from my class on my way to meet Alice for lunch, I see Seth and Leah Clearwater holding on to each other, and Leah is softly crying. I walk up to them, concerned with what's wrong and if there's anything I can do to help.

Leah spots me coming towards them, breaks away from Seth and hugs me to her. "We just found out our father died. It seems he may have had a heart attack," she whispers with tears in her voice.

Stunned, I hug her back at this unexpected news, and say the only thing I can think to say, "I'm so sorry." My mind becomes chaotic; Harry Clearwater is Charlie's age. He's too young to have a heart attack, isn't he? I flash back to how unsettled he was, the day he came to our home two months ago, bringing the envelope for Charlie. But as soon as the thought comes into my head, I see Seth looking confused, sad and desolate. No doubt, trying to understand how this could happen to such a healthy, strong man like his father.

I reach out my hand, enfolding him into our hug. Alice is suddenly in our circle giving comfort as well.

"You know if you want to stay with us, you're both welcome. We'll help you with anything you need. Please don't hesitate to ask," I say through my closed throat. I'm trying to be strong and not cry.

"Thank you, but we need to get home and start making arrangements. But if we do need anything, we'll let you know," Seth mumbles quietly. My heart is breaking for them. They're the same age as us and have now lost their only parent.

H~~H

The funeral is the weekend before Christmas and a solemn affair. Alice, Emmett, Mr. McCarty, Mrs. Cope and I are here at the gravesite of Mr. Clearwater with Seth and Leah, Mister Black and Jacob. Alice is holding up Leah while I'm holding Seth's hand, letting him know he has a lifeline. Mister Black has kindly paid for the funeral as it seems Leah and Seth will have no inheritance to speak of.

Mister Black has also agreed, for the time being, Seth and Leah are welcome to stay in the Foreman's home until a new one is found. Then he says, "We'll have to see where we go from there."

Not a very comforting outlook for two such young people, to my way thinking. I want to ask, why can't they just live in your huge, practically empty house, but I hold my tongue.

Alice and I try to reassure them again, we'll be there for them anytime, and not to worry about the future until the time comes. But how can they not be worried about the future? They're orphans with no present means of support. Its then I decide they will be taken care of. We'll see to it!

As the final prayers are spoken, I hug Seth close and give him a kiss on the cheek. Turning to do the same to Leah, I catch Jacob watching me and I'm stunned to see a look of pure hatred on Jacob's face towards Seth. Not knowing what it's about, I hug and kiss Leah on the cheek with a quiet reminder. "If you need anything at all, let us know."

H~~H

"Did you notice the look on Jacob's face after the service?" I ask Alice on the way back to our car.

Alice nods.

"I wonder what his problem is?" I murmur out loud.

"He's jealous. He saw you kiss Seth," she whispers.

"It was a kiss on the check in comfort, nothing more, nothing less," I hiss, defending myself and Seth.

"Yes, but it's a kiss he's never received for any reason. It doesn't matter to him," she wisely reminds me.

All I can do is shake my head. Jacob is out of his mind if he thinks I'll ever kiss him for any reason.

H~~H

During the week before Christmas, Alice and I spend time decorating the parlor and dining room in holiday splendor. Seth and Leah are coming to join our little family group for Christmas dinner and we're hoping it will cheer them up a little bit.

Alice and I have been very industrious making winter coats for the both of them. We've also created a basket which contains a smoked ham, various canned vegetables, fruit and jams with fresh baked goods. Of course we have gifts for Emmett, Mr. McCarty and Mrs. Cope, but we want this Christmas to be as special as possible for the Clearwaters.

When Christmas day arrives and as we're putting the finishing touches on the dining room table, the Clearwaters arrive, along with the Blacks—again as uninvited guests. It's amazing to me how Mister Black just assumes he can make himself at home, as if he owns the place.

Seth and Leah wish us a quiet, "Merry Christmas," as they come in, clearly looking ill at ease.

Mister Black nods his head after removing his jacket, rubbing his hands together. "Merry Christmas to you Isabella, Alice. I can't wait to see what you've prepared for dinner."

This is just too ridiculous! "Mister Black, I'm sorry, there must be a misunderstanding. We weren't expecting you. We only set enough extra places for Seth and Leah," I say politely, but firmly. This is completely inappropriate, in my opinion, to just assume he can invite himself. Jacob raises his brow at me, but I can't tell if it's for calling out his father, or I want Seth to be here, without him.

Mister Black gazes into the dining room, noting the place settings. "Oh, not to worry Isabella, you can have the help eat in the kitchen. There will be plenty of room," he replies civilly, as if my error in not expecting them can be overlooked, _this time._ Not taking the hint or accepting it.

Everyone in the room is astonished, except for Jacob, at how he has the audacity to call people that I care about "the help" and to remove them from the family table, to the kitchen to make room for him. They deserve to be there, not him. I look at Alice who's shocked into silence and she's the one who can usually defuse any situation.

"Mister Black, I think you're mistaken. '_The help_,' I stress, "as you call them, are part of our family and part of this table setting. Seth and Leah are invited guests. You and Jacob, however, are not. I have to inform you, there is no extra room at this table tonight," I grit my teeth, trying to keep my anger under control. There is no way I plan on spending another unpleasant evening with the Blacks. _I refuse!_

Mister Black glares at me. He can't believe that I would speak to him like this. He's Mister Black after all! I'm just a child, as far as he's concerned, clearly written on his face. He looks around the room wondering if anyone is going to correct my statement.

His eyes land on Alice. "You have nothing to say about this Alice? Do you think your parents would allow such rudeness to guests in their home?"

She's recovered from her shock and looks him square in the eye. "No. No, I don't believe my parents would tolerate 'such rudeness.' I think that they would ask you leave for 'such rudeness.'" She emphasizes his words. She's as insulted as I am at the way he's treating members of our household.

The tension in the room has grown thick. Again Mister Black looks around the room, this time for any support. When he doesn't receive any, a mean glint appears in his eyes. He actually smirks as he says, "Fine, Isabella, I wouldn't want to be where I am not welcome. Jacob, Seth, Leah—let's go."

I gasp, while Seth and Leah look further shocked. How dare he try to take our guests away! This is too much!

"You can't do that; you don't own them Mister Black. They are invited guests here, instead of being by themselves at home alone on Christmas. You've never invited them into your home at Christmas any time before. Why would you do this to them after what they've recently been through?" stammers Alice.

"Why you ask, Alice? Because in my household, if someone from my property is not invited somewhere, then no one is invited. I don't discriminate in my invitations," he seethes.

"But you weren't invited, Seth and Leah were!" I vent, stressing the point of invitation.

"We are all invited or none at all. Now let's go everyone," he orders turning towards the door, putting on his jacket.

"No!" Seth yells. He looks at Leah and she walks to stand by his side, to let him know of her silent agreement.

Mister Black asks between clinched teeth. "No what, Boy?"

"No, Mister Black. You were going to have Christmas dinner with only you and Jacob. You didn't invite us to your table. When you saw Leah and me leaving tonight, and found out where we were going, you invited yourselves. We were invited to the Swans. They have gone out of their way to make us feel a little happier and I will not walk out on them and the kindness they offered." Leah nods her head in agreement.

I think this is the most I've ever heard Seth speak. He's always been a quiet young man and I'm so proud of him.

You can feel the tension roll through the room with Mister Black's rage. He obviously doesn't appreciate the way Seth just spoke to him and he's balled up his fist as if he wants to hit him. Emmett, probably seeing the clinched fist, walks over and stands on the other side of Seth. Mr. McCarty then takes a stance next to Leah; Alice moves in front of Leah and I walk and stand in front of Seth, showing a united front.

Jacob looks at us, then to his father, downright confused on how this situation got so out of hand. He's always been confident his father was right in all matters. Now he seems to be re-thinking this thought.

Mister Black finally gains control of his anger. "When will your parents be back, Isabella?" he demands, his face red.

This question confuses me. "After the new year," I answer warily.

"Well then fine. Seth and Leah can stay here with you until your parents return, then either your parents will continue to allow them to stay here or they need to find a place of their own. My generosity has been abused and I'm done. Good luck and good riddance to you, Seth and Leah. You will rue this day," he spits.

We all gasp at how he can be so cruel to Seth and Leah. Haven't they been through enough losing their only parent and now tossing them out on Christmas day? _He's worse than Scrooge!_

Seth and Leah looked resigned, as if they knew this was coming, now sooner rather than later. Guilt suffuses my entire body. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut! But then I shake off the thought and remind myself this isn't my fault. I won't take this on my shoulders. This is entirely on Mister Black.

Mister Black continues, "I expect you to remove everything from my property no later than January 15th. It should give you ample time to find somewhere else to live. You will no longer work for me, Seth. I will not allow anyone to speak to me…"

"Leave now!" I speak over him. I won't let him continue this tirade; it's too much to put upon these two young people.

Mister Black looks at me and starts to speak again but I cut him off again, shouting, "LEAVE NOW!" All sense of decorum has left me as I scream again at him, "I said, LEAVE NOW!"

Mister Black stares at me for a few seconds longer, gauging my demand, and then cocks his head to Jacob towards the door. Jacob is on the move with Mister Black following. He turns one last time to speak, but this time Alice cuts him off by repeating my lament, "LEAVE NOW." It's a sign to Mister Black, I don't speak alone for this family and Alice is in full agreement with me.

As soon as the door is shut, I turn to Seth and hug him as tight as I can. "I'm so sorry Seth. I didn't mean for this to happen," I whisper.

Between the adrenaline flowing through me and the need to give him comfort, I think I practically squeeze him to death.

"You both need to know you have a place to live, food in your belly and we will find work for you here on the property. You will not be homeless and you will never need to beg him to let you go back to stay. Your father was Charlie's best friend. He will never let anything happen to either of you. You understand this right. Tell me you understand!" Alice says, demanding they understand. When she's emotional, this is how she lets her anger out.

Seth and Leah both nod. Emmett grips Seth's shoulder while Mrs. Cope comforts Leah. Mr. McCarty looks beyond angry but is trying to contain it. There is little else to be said at this point.

Seth looks around at all of us who here for him and Leah and finally speaks. "You don't know how much this means to Leah and me. I know your dad will let us stay here. To be honest, I'm honored…" he looks at Leah, "We're honored to have friends like all of you. Except for our dad, we have no one else but you, Alice, Charlie and Renee." He looks at Emmett, Mr. McCarty and Mrs. Cope. "I feel like I have a family again. Thank you," he finishes emotionally.

Leah clears her throat, while she wipes her eyes of her tears. "I've always envied the closeness your family has with the people around you.

You've always treated them as friends and friends like family. I'm thankful to be able to call all of you friends and thank you for making me feel a part of your family." Then she smiles a little, "Merry Christmas!"

H~~H

Dinner starts out quietly, passing plates and dishes around, and then eating the delicious meal. Thankfully, it doesn't take long for everyone to relax when Emmett decides to tell his favorite Christmas story.

"In 1914, the Great War erupted," he begins. "It was the first world war that involved six of the seven continents. It's still considered the war to end all wars. During those four years of the war over eight million men were killed and hundreds of thousands wounded. Now I know this doesn't sound like a Christmas story but bear with me.

"On Christmas Eve in 1914, one of the most unusual events took place on the Western front in military history. That night it was freezing cold. Water froze in canteens. There was ice and slush in the trenches, on both the German and British sides that the men were bunkered down in. It was miserable!

"Then little lights started appearing on the German side. With binoculars, the British could see they were candles. The British were amazed, because with the candles and lanterns being lit, they made themselves easy targets to be shot at. Someone on the British side remembered that the Germans celebrated Christmas on December 24th. Through their binoculars, they saw a tree decorated in candles and they were singing. Their words could be heard as they sang, 'Stille nacht, heilige nacht.' Translated from German it's, 'Silent Night, Holy Night.'

"The British started singing along with the Germans. Men on both sides, divested themselves of their weapons, came up from their trenches and met their enemies in the middle of a war zone with smiles and handshakes.

"That night, former enemy soldiers sat around a common campfire. They exchanged small gifts from their meager belongings; chocolate bars, buttons, badges and small tins of processed beef. Men who only hours earlier had been shooting to kill each other were now sharing Christmas festivities and showing each other family snapshots.

"The truce ended just as it had begun, by mutual agreement. But it truly was a Silent Night, Holy Night.

"I love this story because these men really had no hate for each other. Both sides were following orders and defending what other people of higher rank or office deemed appropriate. The moral of the story, if you will, everyone will always have to answer to someone else in their life—be it parents, bosses, spouses, family, friends or even the government itself. But, you own your soul and if you believe in Christmas, miracles or something which matters to you alone, don't let anyone stop you from your beliefs."

We all sit staring at Emmett after he finishes. "What a wonderful story about hope," I remark quietly. Heads nod in agreement.

Then Alice speaks up in a disgruntled tone. "I was going to recite 'The Night before Christmas,' but it just sounds childish now." Then she sticks her tongue out at Emmett, childishly, and we all start laughing. We enjoy the evening with our company and the good food sitting at the table with everyone telling their favorite times of Christmas' past. Laughing and teasing each other throughout dinner with hope riding high on our shoulders.

After dinner we all head into the parlor where we have a small Christmas tree decorated with hand blown glass ornaments, bows and an angel to top the tree, with gifts around and below. We hand out our gifts to one and all.

Two days before Christmas, Alice and I received a special delivery to the house. It's was large box with stamps showing it was shipped from Spain. We know it's from our parents and decide to put it under the tree to open Christmas day. But we changed our minds and decided to open our gift early. We were delighted to find that we were the proud owners of a radio. While Emmett dials in a radio station playing Christmas music, everyone continues opening gifts with many thanks going all around.

Once we're done, we clean up the room and stack everyone's gifts. Alice and I run upstairs to grab our guitars, violin, harmonicas, snare drums and kazoos. Passing the instruments out so everyone has something to play, Alice sits at the piano and I take up the violin. Seth and Emmett play guitar beautifully. Mr. McCarty on harmonica is poignant. Leah plays well on the drums keeping us in beat and Mrs. Cope on kazoo is hysterical. We sing and play our hearts out and even though I miss our parents, especially on this day, they taught us well to enjoy the moment, and so we do.

To hear Seth and Leah laugh again is the best gift the rest of us could have wished for. Mister Black and Jacob are all but forgotten.

H~~H

Two days later we have an unexpected visitor. Alice and I are still in our bed clothes and robes, sitting at the kitchen table and drinking our first cup of coffee at 6:00 in the morning, there's a pounding on the front door. I rise up to answer it but since I am not socially dressed, Emmett, already dressed to begin the day, gets up to see who's there. I follow behind him using him as a safeguard. He opens the door to a disheveled Royce King. At first, Royce seems confused about Emmett answering the door. Then he becomes angry.

Royce looks at Emmett. "Where's Rose?" he spits. Emmett, taken aback at first, is confused and then you can see the anger build in him.

Emmett, enunciating each word carefully asks, "What did you do to her?"

"I don't have to tell you anything. I want to know if my WIFE is here! Now, is she or isn't she?" Royce shouts.

"You don't live on this property and I do, so, I don't have to tell you anything," Emmett retorts.

Royce spies me from behind Emmett and I'm stunned to find out Royce is out looking for Rosalie so early in the morning. What happened? Why did she leave? Is she okay? Where is she?

"Isabella, if Rose is here will you please let me speak to her?" Royce asks me.

Standing up straight to face him, no longer caring if I'm dressed inappropriately, I look him in the eye and demand, "What did you do to her? I swear to God if you hurt her, you will rot in hell."

He just looks at me, as if he's undressing me, and cocks his head to one side. "I would never hurt her Isabella, she's my wife."

"Bull! I saw you slap her before you were even married. I can't imagine how you would treat her once you were married." I seethe out through my teeth. Then I realize my mistake. In my concern for Rosalie, I had forgotten we left out certain parts when we told Emmett what we knew about Rosalie being engaged to Royce.

"You hit her? _You hit her?"_ Emmett sneers through clenched teeth. Luckily, Mr. McCarty comes in and knows Emmett is losing control. He walks up and stands next to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder, calming him.

"How long has she been gone?" Mr. McCarty questions, daring Royce to lie.

Royce knowing he's out numbered, outweighed and out manned finally admits, "I haven't seen her since yesterday morning. We had an argument and she went to her room. After work, last night I knocked on her door and she didn't answer. I broke in the door, only to find that she was gone."

I notice how he didn't say their room and it catches me off guard. My parents have always shared a room and I thought it was natural for all married couples do so. Maybe if you're rich you have separate rooms. Focusing back to the issue at hand I wonder, "Do you think she was kidnapped?"

"She left of her own volition, Isabella. She took some clothes and she stole money out of my desk drawer in my office," he snaps at me.

"How could she steal from you when you're married? Don't you own everything together? Isn't your money her money?" I blurt all the questions at once. "And if she left of her own volition, maybe there's a hint for you, as in she doesn't want to see you or better yet, she doesn't want to stay married to you?" I smile as I say the last words. I like the sound of that. _Yes, I like it very much._

Royce actually shakes with indignation and if Mr. McCarty or Emmett weren't here, I think he would have actually pounded on me. By this time, we're joined by Alice, Seth, Leah and Mrs. Cope. All of them are gathered around to witness his anger as he swears at me. "You're a little bitch, you're just like her, aren't you Isabella? Well know this, she is my _wife _and I want her back. You tell me now if she's here or not. I have a right to know!"

Did he just call me a bitch? How dare he? Just as I am about to lay into him, Alice grabs me around my waist with both hands and smiles sweetly. "I think it's time you left now."

"No! You have to tell me where she is! She's not at her parents. She's not at Reverend Weber's. She has to be here. She has nowhere else to go. If she's not here, then you know where she is. Where the hell is she!?" He rambles crossly, unbelieving how she could vanish into thin air.

Alice again smiles. "It's now past time you left. If you don't leave now, you'll be escorted off this property and I'm not sure you will like how it might happen. Leave now!"

Royce looks at Alice, ready to speak again but Alice just raises an eyebrow at him. He then looks at Emmett, Mr. McCarty and Seth. He glances at me and I don't think he discounts what I might be capable of doing. I know my face must still be red with anger. He puts both hands in the air, backs out of the doorway, onto the porch, down the stairs, then turns, gets in his car and drives away.

Alice releases her hold on me, as Mr. McCarty closes the door. Everyone, it seems, lets out one big gust of air to relieve the tension.

I'm still fuming. "He called me a bitch! He called Rosalie a bitch! One day…" I can't finish my sentence. I don't know if it was going to be a threat, curse or vow. I need to let go of this rage. There are more things important right now than to think about Royce King.

"Where's Rosalie? I hope she's all right." I finally speak, what everyone else must be thinking.

"I think she's fine. In fact, I think she's better than fine. She's doing what she needs to do. And, I think that we will see her very soon," Alice says with a serene smile spreading across her face.

_I hope you're right, Alice._

I look at everyone in the room until finally my eyes settle on Emmett, and I know he's hoping Alice is right too.


	11. Hopeful to Helpless

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better. I can never say thank you enough. Her stories based on The Hunger Games are really good! Check them out!**

T**hank you for the continued encouragement in PM's and reviews. I really appreciate your thoughts,critiques and the smiles and laughs you give me. **

**Chapter 10**

**From Hope to Helpless**

**Winter of 1933 **

**Edward**

I've enjoyed the voyage from England, across the vast ocean, to the States in the company of the Swans.

Charlie and Renee are incredible people. They remind me of my parents with their light banter and easy going attitudes. Neither are demanding or demeaning to the crew or captain as some passengers are known to be.

I didn't spend much time with them in the beginning of their visit. My mom and Renee reminded me of young school girls, laughing about the most inane things.

When my dad and Charlie speak about business though, I'm interested and listen. I become fascinated when Charlie speaks about the growing of the crops and changes they're making to improve production; such as new irrigation systems or farm equipment.

One day, Carlisle curiously asks, "Who's taking care of the plantation in your absence?"

Charlie's eyes are excited as he talks of his foreman by the name of Mr. McCarty and his son Emmett. He speaks highly of Emmett. "I can see him taking over the position of foreman someday or moving on to another plantation in the same capacity." His eyes light up with pride though when he says, "Bella is technically in charge during our holiday."

This gets my attention. I want to ask, 'The dark haired beauty with the soulful eyes is in charge?' But I'm not sure if Charlie will appreciate that particular comment. "Isn't Bella just 17 years old?" I ask instead, interested because I can't imagine even a man of that age running such a large operation.

"Bella was born to the land—the same as some are born to be soldiers, politicians or scientist. She probably doesn't have the confidence to think she can run it, but I bet if push comes to shove, she will do just as well as me." Charlie chuckles. "She can manage the books and work any piece of equipment; she knows how to deal with the workers and they respect her. Plus, she knows every stage of the cotton plant to understand what it needs at all times."

"That's amazing," I say admiringly. "And she attends school also, dances, social gatherings?" My mind is stuck on the all the things that the girls I know do. Never would they think to try to run a business or get their perfectly manicured hands dirty.

Again, Charlie just chuckles at the look of awe on my face. "Son, both Alice and Bella attend school and are straight A students. In fact, Alice will graduate early because she doesn't want to attend if Bella isn't there. And though they both have many admires, neither have attended a dance. Social gatherings give Bella a headache; she can't stand all the 'gossip mongers' as she calls them with their 'catty remarks' to quote Alice." He laughs out loud, then calms with a thoughtful smile on his face.

Shaking his head he says, "No, Bella and Alice would rather be at home working in the family garden, tending livestock, canning, cooking, baking or sewing. They're very close sisters that act more like twins, sometimes even completing each other's sentences. As far as dancing goes, they would much rather be playing their music. They play various instruments, sing beautifully and keep us entertained. I guess you would say, they enjoy the simple things in life and don't feel the need to impress. I'm afraid they're nothing like your friend, Tanya."

"Ex-friend. _Tanya, is an ex-friend_," I emphasis the words. I don't know why I want him to be clear on that, but it matters. Maybe it's because she so was rude or because compared to what he just said about his daughters, she's superficial. Whatever my reasoning, it's important that he understand this.

Charlie just nods his head as if he understands my underlying response. I feel a true bond with Charlie, which is incredible because I barely know him.

With a straight face he says, "Well, that's good to hear son, because I would hate for her to get jealous of you spending time with my girls while you stay with us."

I think I actually blush at that—which is so unlike me. For one, he called me son and I like that. But, did he figure out that I'm very much looking forward to meeting them, especially the lovely Bella? Or my hope that she might find me attractive or interesting? Then he starts laughing again, at I can only guess, my expression is giving me away. "Just messing with you son," he says with a wink.

Now I know I blush. Attempting to change the subject I glance towards my dad.

It dawns on me that he hasn't uttered one word during this whole conversation. He's just sat back, watching and listening to Charlie and me with a contented smile on his face. I have no clue what he's smiling about but for some reason I'm smiling also.

It's a very enjoyable day.

H~~H

Mid October comes and my parents and the Swans leave for their travels. I have the whole place to myself, enjoying the quiet time. I start thinking about what I'm going to miss while I'm away in the States. I think of the men I call friends but realize that they aren't real friends but more acquaintances.

Of course, I spent time with some more than others but it seems like it's a study in one up-man-ship. In primary and secondary education, it was who'd have the best grades or was the best at what sport. As I got older and attended university, it was who'd been with the most women, or has the most money, land, entitlement, etcetera. It seems my life is a constant social competition.

I can't recall a deep meaningful conversation with anyone of them except my parents pertaining to philosophy, current events, the economy or even the meaning of life. That is an instant eye opener. Did that mean I'm just as superficial and arrogant as what I claimed Tanya to be? It sounded like it and I'm not pleased with my thoughts.

I need an attitude adjustment if I'm going to spend time with the Swan family. They are very down to earth and humble people. I sure as hell don't want to present myself as a posturing, self-absorbed asshole.

With that thought in mind, I decide I need to study up on farming, cotton and the general area I'll be staying. I want to be able to hold my own in any conversation that may be presented.

So that's what I do.

I spend my days watching over and making decisions on my parent's companies and investments. My afternoons are spent at the club that has a small training area for boxing and sparing partners, keeping myself in shape. My night's reading The Farmer's Almanac and books on various forms of farming and plant life in both the past and present. The more I learn about the growth of plants and farming processes—the greater respect I gain for this way of life.

In every job, in all areas of work, there is a necessity and benefit for both the worker and employer. This applies from factory workers to Politian's. But, I'm beginning to view farming differently. Our first basic needs in order to survive are food, clothing and shelter. I have never thought of farming being involved for shelter, until I read how hay and trees were and still today are grown specifically for housing. Farming is as old as time and I have gained a new respect for it.

H~~H

By mid-December my parents and the Swans return from their sojourn. Their friendship seems stronger than ever. Which is amazing, because you get to know people well when you travel with them; learning if they have annoying habits, arguments can occur when one wants to go here but another there. I have witnessed that traveling has ruined many friendships. It's gratifying to see that this is not the case.

The time before Christmas has the women decorating and shopping for gifts. My dad and I take Charlie out to look at vehicles. He's interested in looking at the European models, 'up close and personal' as he puts it.

We end up at the Aston Martin factory where Charlie falls head over heels in love with the Logonda model, and so do I. It's a thing of beauty and designed for speed. Anything by Aston Martin I covet.

Charlie goes back and forth; finally deciding he's going to splurge and take it home with him. After the deal is made, directions are given for the vehicle to be crated and delivered to the port of Southampton prepared for shipping. It's arranged for the car to be registered in my name. This is to prevent any tariffs that may be impounded on imports owned by an American, even if the car is purchased here. But, a visitor bringing their vehicle for transportation wouldn't be questioned. Once we're in Georgia, I will simply transfer title to the Swans.

Two days before Christmas, the Swans receive a handmade Christmas card from Bella and Alice. At first, they're all smiles, as they read the letter enclosed, sitting next to each other on the davenport, in the library. My parents are seated on the love seat and I'm sitting in the chair across from the bright fire, burning in the fireplace. It's warm and cozy as we sit having an after dinner drink. Then their brows furrow. I'm hoping it isn't bad news but don't feel comfortable asking.

Renee folds the letter and lays it on her lap, she looks up at Charlie, squeezing his arm with both of her hands and quietly states, "Something's happened."

Charlie nods, and then stares into the fire, patting her hands absently with his free one. "They don't want to ruin our time here. I'm sure their thinking is that there is nothing we can do from so far away." He sighs heavily. "They're right."

Renee leans her head on Charlie's shoulder with a faraway look in her eyes and speaks simply, "It's not them though; it's something or someone else."

Charlie's only answer is to kiss her forehead. So few words have been spoken between the two of them, but those spoken, speak volumes.

Silence prevails as the mood in the room changes from pleasure to melancholy. Renee and Charlie, after complimenting my parents again on the wonderful supper and company, excuse themselves to retire for the night. My parents soon follow suit after their good nights to me, concern for their friends, evident on their features.

For some reason I become anxious. I need to rid myself of this mood and decide to take a walk. Putting on a heavy coat and hat, I leave the warmth of the house, into the brisk evening air and the quiet street of Kensington Palace Gardens; it's considered the most prime real estate in all of London.

Until recently, I never gave it a second thought as to where I was raised. It just is. Now, as I head down the quiet street, surrounded by monolithic houses, I begin to feel that all the homes here, including mine, are ostentatious. We are three people living in what some would describe as a castle. Did we really need that much room? To be honest, our home has been in the family for generations but again, no more than four family members at one time. We have three times more staff then family.

Since the arrival of the Swans, my mind has continually returned to the time of a three year old little boy and acres and acres of space. I don't understand why I have this sudden need, but I desire that space, because for some reason it represents freedom. Freedom; from the cloying, grasping women who only want what I represent and not me. Men who want to do business with me to increase their already sizable wealth, but not in friendship. Every one of my acquaintances are a user and the harsh reality is—so was I.

I want to breathe the clean air and not the pollution that you inhale from all the factories when in London proper. I want to work with my hands in the soil and not pushing a pencil. I want to be out in the open and not closeted away in an office. My musing is such a revelation that I don't see the person that I bump into.

I reach out instinctively to steady the person and myself, an apology ready on my lips, when I hear that annoying throaty laugh.

"Well, hello Edward. I knew you would come to your senses," Tanya is smiling up at me with her hands on my forearms.

I remove my hands from her, backing away so hers fall away, as I glance around, to discover that I have walked almost two miles and I'm in front of Tanya's house. Leaning against a car parked on the street is Aro Volturi, with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Aro and I have never gotten along. He is one of the many acquaintances that have always been in competition with me since primary school.

Again, Tanya gives a throaty laugh as I recover myself. "Tanya, I'm sorry I didn't see you, I was lost in thought," I respond truthfully.

"Thinking about me?" she purrs trying to sound seductive.

For some reason this makes me chuckle, as I think to myself, she's obviously been on a date with Aro, he's standing right over there and she's either trying to attach herself to me again or make him jealous. _I want none of it._

"No Tanya, I was most definitely not thinking about you!" I answer, still chuckling quietly.

She looks deeply into my eyes, verifying that I'm speaking the truth, is all I can speculate. She looks wounded, turns abruptly and walks over to Aro, rubs up against him and says loudly, "Come inside lover."

Maybe she's trying to make me jealous? I chuckle to myself because that's not going to happen.

Aro's arms encircle her as if saying 'she's mine.' They are perfectly suited for each other. I smile, genuinely happy for the both of them, saying with sincerity, "Have a good evening."

I turn around, whistling happily; all I can think of is that I'm so glad to be leaving here. Who knows, maybe it's for good. With that encouraging thought; I enjoy my stroll back home.

H~~H

Christmas day arrives. It's a day of family and food. My parents will occasionally invite friends over but mostly it's a quiet family day. I'm still amused and amazed at how much laughter has visited our home since the Swans arrived.

As I come down the stairs, I hear giggles and snorts from Renee and Esme who are in the kitchen making dinner and I can't help laughing under my breath. I walk into the library shaking my head at the women, still smiling, as I see Charlie and my dad in deep concentration playing chess.

They both look up when I enter and grin at me.

Charlie gifted me for Christmas new Levi's and Renee made me winter and spring work shirts. I have never worn jeans before, never had reason to, but they fit like a glove and are very comfortable, even if they are a bit stiff. Since it's warm in the house, I opt for the blue spring shirt with a little white swan that Renee embroidered on the chest pocket. The fit is perfect. That she took the time to make the shirts herself, as opposed to purchasing already made ones, makes them incredibly special. I'm in awe of her handiwork.

Grinning back at the two, I drawl in my best southern accent, "Well, y'all, do I look like a workin' man?"

At this, Charlie and Carlisle bust out in laughter. From that, I can tell I'm not doing well with my southern impersonation.

"Son, the clothes work, but lose the accent," Charlie says with much humor.

This sets Carlisle into a whole new bout of laughter. The ladies enter the room wanting to be included in what has the two of them in stitches.

Charlie just shakes his head. "Edward's accent will never fool anyone into thinking he is from the South."

Renee with a wide smile on her face as she takes in my attire says, "No, but he looks mighty fine and rugged wearing these clothes, that I think the ladies will forgive him that little lapse. Plus, since he's branded as a Swan, how can he go wrong?" She winks at Charlie, who grins back at her.

My mom continues to stare at me for a moment and finally she says, "You know Edward, I have always liked you wearing suits. But seeing you now in these clothes, it's as if, for the first time I'm looking at the real you—at how you're supposed to be."

I just smile at her, because I can't help but agree.

H~~H

With the winds in our favor and the sleekness of my dad's ship, the voyage takes one day less than expected with only one day of rough waters.

We stayed below deck, waiting out the storm that battled against the ship above, until it exhaust itself. The winter weather is been kind to us.

It's late in the afternoon when we put into port. With the help from a crew member; we collect our luggage, disembark and put the luggage to the side of the unloading area. We need to wait for the unloading of the vehicle. I ask the same crew member to please wait with our bags as we want to stretch our sea legs and have an early dinner.

The Swans are anxious to get home and I know it has to do with the letter they received. Not knowing what news awaits them, I suggest that they return home by themselves and I will make my way there by train in a few days, bringing any extra luggage they might have that won't fit in the vehicle with me.

They're uncomfortable with leaving me here to fend for myself, but I assure them that I'll be fine and want to do a little exploring of the port area. I can tell they appreciate having the time alone for their family reunion with Bella and Alice and to get anything under control that occurred in their absence.

The Aston Martin is finally uncreated and rolls over the broken boards and nails in the unloading area. We fit as much as we can of their luggage inside. I have the rest sent to be stored at the train station in the holding area for when I travel to Savannah.

It's already evening when goodbyes are said with promises to meet again in three days' time.

H~~H

The port is small but busy. Another ship is being loaded, as crew men and passengers alike are on the frontage walks. Birds squawking overhead as they fly in the light breeze with dogs barking in the background is almost musical.

I head to an Inn that's located not far from the train station. I walk in, letting my eyes adjust to the bright change in lighting and locate the front desk area. I notice a young woman there and with an 'I'm glad to be here,' smile on my face I ask, "Is there a room available for two nights?"

The woman hadn't seen me arrive and looks up at me with a smile of greeting ready on her lips, then she seems dazed, and she looks down quickly with a heavy blush on her cheeks. "Yes, we do," she says shyly.

She still doesn't look directly at me, as if trying to get a hold of herself and becomes a little chatterbox. She nervously begins talking about the ship that just came into port; that the crew of the 'Savior' are the nicest of men to dock here, that all the women look forward to its arrival.

Where I can get a good meal this evening and places I might want to visit while I'm here. As she rambles on, she grabs a key and registration book for me to sign.

The 'Savior' is Cullen Shipping's flagship. Looking at the gushing woman, I decide that I need to change my last name while I stay here. I don't want any unnecessary attention because I'm a Cullen. I think she might feel it's owed. Since, I had my epiphany, I want to be treated as a normal person traveling through. So I sign my name, Edward Masen on the registration. Masen is my maternal Grandfather.

I pay for the two nights in advance, as she asks if she can show me to my room with little disguised excitement in her voice. I decline her offer and ask for the location instead. The Inn is three stories and I lug my bags up the stairs to the second floor, after being informed that breakfast is included in the room rate and served from 8:00 am to 10:00 am.

The room isn't large, but it looks quite comfortable and clean. It has a big bed with a quilt on top of the comforter; an upholstered chair set by the fireplace that is lit, a settee in the nook of the bay window with a full view of the ocean and the docks to the side; the communal bathroom is down the hall.

I'm currently still wearing the dark Italian handmade suit that I've worn since departing the boat. I take off my heavy coat and hat as soon as I drop the bags on the bed. I put the bag with my clothes in the armoire to deal with later. I haven't brought much, knowing I'll be buying clothes that will be more conducive to being on a plantation, once I arrive in Savannah.

In a separate bag are the funds for the Swans from the sale of their cotton. They asked that I hold it for them and to bring it when I come since they wanted to bring home their gifts for Bella and Alice. I lean down by the foot of the bed and shove it under. I've brought my own funds, which I store with my toiletries behind the settee. I don't like leaving bags out in the open.

Feeling restless, thinking of the Swans, hoping that their worries will be put to rest soon and a happy reunion is in their near future, I retrieve my coat and hat and head back downstairs. As I open the door, I notice across the street is a bar that looks lively. I can hear live Jazz music from the band that's playing.

I cross the street and enter the bar, letting my eyes adjust to the smoky room, noticing all the tables are full. At the bar, I spy an available stool and make my way to it. Ordering a drink, I turn to watch the band and the people dancing to the music. The bartender hands me my drink; I pay for it, and then take a sip of the cognac. It's warm going down and is exactly what I need to relax me. Turning in my seat, I lean back against the bar and listen to the music. A beautiful, tall, slender, redhead woman makes her way towards me. She sits down on the empty stool to my right and orders a glass of chardonnay. From the corner of my eye, I can see her assessing me. I'm not interested in her, per se, more that I just want to talk to someone and learn about the area from a local.

She smiles at me and I return it. "My name is Victoria," she says, then adds "are you new to the area?"

"Edward," I reply, not including my last name since she doesn't. I'm not used to the informality that seems prevalent here in the States, "and yes, I've just arrived."

"Oh, passing through on your way where, if you don't mind my asking?" She inquires with interest.

I explain that I will be visiting with a family soon and I'm getting familiar with the area for business purposes without giving out names or locations.

I finish my drink and order another. A table opens up and Victoria asks smiling, "Do you want to sit with me?"

She isn't flirting as most women tend to do, it's refreshing, and so I reply, "Yes." I pick up my drink and follow her over. She takes a seat and I excuse myself. "I'll be right back."

I find the lavatory, only gone a few minutes, and come back to see her talking to a tall man with blonde hair who is sitting in my seat. I wander over and pick up my drink, taking a sip and ask, "Would you like me to leave you to your company?" She laughs and politely asks the man to leave. He looks at her, then me, nods his head and goes to sit at the bar.

We talk and she tells me how she'll be leaving the area the next day to visit relatives in New Orleans. She describes the city to me and says if I ever get to visit, I will need to visit the old French Quarters. We talk about the music and have an enjoyable time. I don't believe I have ever had a conversation with a woman that is of a platonic nature. It's a revelation for me. I finish my second drink and think about ordering another, when I began to feel dizzy. Two drinks normally won't do that to me, but for some reason, I'm starting to feel slightly drunk.

I tell Victoria that I'm going to call it a night, as I rise to excuse myself. I really need to lie down. I stand up, swaying a bit. I put both hands on the table to try to steady myself. I shake my head trying to clear it and it only seems to make it worse.

"Whoa there, are you feeling alright?" She asks.

I laughed a little, "I'm not sure. I do know I need to leave. It was nice meeting you." My words are starting to slur at the end.

Victoria laughs, "Seems to me, you might be a lightweight; you can't hold your liquor now can you?"

I laugh again, but can't answer because the dizziness is becoming overwhelming. Victoria stands up and wraps her arms around my waist. "Put your arm around my shoulder and I'll help you to your room."

I'm grateful that she's helping me. I'm also confused as to how I got in this condition. Maybe I'm coming down with the flu. Making our way slowly across the street, I think the cold night air will clear my head but it does nothing to relieve the dizziness. I'm barely able to tell her the room number and thankfully she helps me upstairs.

She reaches into my coat pocket for my key and opens the door to my room as I list over to the bed. I fall backwards onto it, but keep one foot on the ground, trying to stop the spinning. I close my eyes, but when I hear a man's voice speaking, I open one. I notice a blond haired man is in my room talking to Victoria. He looks vaguely familiar, but with my head spinning wildly, I'm not sure I'm thinking clearly.

The man is now in my room; he opens the armoire, finds my bag, opens it and begins tossing my clothes everywhere.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I barely crock out. I try to get up but Victoria pushes me back easily onto the bed. I can't believe how helpless and weak I feel. The man then starts looking under the bed. I tense up. I know then what's happening. Adrenaline spikes through my body, giving me enough strength to get up off the bed. Victoria tries to push me down again, but this time it doesn't work. Pushing past her, I grab the shoulders of the man, to pull him away from the bag. I'm in great shape and box regularly for sport, so I know how to throw a punch. He stands up and tells me, "Relax, no one needs to get hurt."

"No!" I shout. I try to stand up to my full height and take a swing but in my lightheaded state, miss completely. I shout louder or it seems loud in my head, "You need to leave now. Help! Somebody hel…" That's as far as I get. The man hits me hard in the jaw. I crash into the armoire. I stand back up but he hits me again in the stomach and because I'm already nauseous and unsteady, I easily go down to my knees.

"James, don't hurt him. Let's just take whatever is in that bag and go," I vaguely hear Victoria say. The dizziness is taking over again and I'm helpless in fighting it.

"No!" I think I yell again. For all I know it's a whimper. James hits me once more in the jaw and I all I see are flashes of brilliant lights and then darkness.


	12. Dark Days and Nights

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better. I can never say thank you enough. Her stories based on The Hunger Games are really good! Check them out!**

T**hank you for the continued encouragement in PM's and reviews. I really appreciate your thoughts,critiques and the smiles and laughs you give me. **

**Warning: This maybe a hard chapter for some. **

**Chapter 11**

**Dark Days and Nights**

**Winter of 1933 **

**Bella**

On Tuesday, January 2nd we receive word that Charlie and Renee will be home by Friday, late evening and they're bringing a guest with them.

Without a hint as to the gender or age of the guest, we turn out the guest room downstairs—complete with flowers.

It's a whirlwind of activity and excitement around the house. We're cleaning from floor to ceiling and baking special treats that we know are Charlie and Renee's favorites, wanting to make their homecoming special. Plus, we want to make a good impression on the mystery guest and our parents proud.

Seth and Leah were doing well and getting comfortable in the Brandon house. They have dinner with us most nights and we laugh, listen to the radio or play and sing our own tunes. You can tell the pain at the loss of Harry is still fresh, but they're making the most of it and moving on. In fact, we never knew the Clearwaters to be such chatterers, but they are. Whenever they were with the Blacks they had always been quiet and reserved.

Thursday evening, after a long day of finishing touches to the home, baking and company, we turn in for the night. The excitement of our parent's homecoming makes it a little difficult for sleep to come. My mind is turning over any last minute details, I might need to do, but finally slumber takes me away.

I'm awoken from my sleep by a piercing shriek. At first, I think I must have been dreaming but then I hear it again. I sit up in bed, clearing the fogginess from my brain. Again, I hear the scream and realize its Alice. I bolt from my room, across the sitting room and throw open her door with a bang. With the light from the moon streaming in from her window, I see her tossing and turning in bed, fighting the sheets and blankets, while crying and moaning in despair.

I pull her restless body into my arms, trying to wake her up and calm her down at the same time. I'm whispering to her "It's okay, I have you Alice, I've got you, and you're safe. Please calm down, I have you," over and over.

She starts mumbling chaotically and disjointedly. I think I finally understand as it sounds like, "they aren't coming home, they aren't coming home," through her hysteria and moans.

I try asking her, "who isn't coming home," but she isn't listening to me, lost in whatever terror consumes her mind.

After what seems like forever, she finally calms down. She pulls her head from my shoulder and looks at me with sad and desolate eyes. She makes as if to speak, but nothing passes from her lips. She tries again clutching her throat but no words issue forth. She shakes her head and hugs me with all her might. I feel a sense of foreboding overtake me and coldness run through my body. I then understand who she's talking about. Alice has had dreams before that seem to come true. This one can't. I say a silent prayer, _please don't let this one be true_.

H~~H

The next morning dawns and I wake up in Alice's bed. Sleep and exhaustion over took us at some point in the early hours before dawn. I roll over to see if she's awake and find myself staring into her blank blue eyes. I try to think of something encouraging to say, but my mind is empty of any of those sentiments. Instead, I quietly say, "C'mon Alice, let's wash up and get something to eat. Okay?"

After we dress and make ourselves presentable, we go downstairs into the kitchen. Mrs. Cope is in her usual happy mood until she sees us.

"What's wrong?" her concern evident.

Alice looks past her, out the window, towards the well. The sky is overcast with a grey pallor reflecting our mood. I simply look at Alice and shake my head to Mrs. Cope. She knows we will talk, but now is not the time.

As the day progresses, Alice hides herself away in the library. It's there we have our family portraits, pictures and journals. She won't or can't speak at all, but conveys yes or no answers to any questions asked of her, by using her head or hand signals.

Emmett, Mr. McCarty, Seth and Leah have all stopped in wondering if there are any last minute needs. Since they were all here, I explain what occurred last night. Emmett and Mrs. Cope both know of Alice's little oddity of having dreams or in most cases nightmares that seem to come true. Both, when I tell of last night's events, pale and sit down immediately; Mrs. Cope starts crying as Mr. McCarty comforts her.

I look at Seth and Leah still fresh from their recent loss and hug them both and they hold on to me tightly and all I could think to say is, "It will be alright."

"I hope for once she's wrong," Leah whispers.

"I hope and pray you're right," I whisper back.

H~~H

We are all in the parlor, except for Alice, when we hear a car pull up the drive. I try to get a hold of my emotions—I'm not ready for any visitors this early in the morning.

Hearing the footsteps walking up the front porch stairs, Mr. McCarty is getting up to answer the door.

Hearing the knock on the door, Mr. McCarty answers it.

Hearing a man on the other side of the door enquiring, "Is this the Swan residence?"

Hearing Mr. McCarty answer, "Yes, it is."

Hearing the man question, "Are you a part of the Swan family?"

Hearing Mr. McCarty reply, "No Sir. I'm their foreman, Mr. McCarty,"

Hearing the man announce, "My name is Officer Embry Call and this is Detective Sam Uley; I need to speak with a member of the Swan family. It's important, Mr. McCarty."

Hearing the roaring in my ears, while my heart is pounding out a painful dirge and I can't breathe. It's too much. My mind becomes empty and darkness takes over.

H~~H

I must have fainted because I realize that Emmett is holding me on his lap, sitting on the divan with a towel that smells of vinegar in his hand. I can smell its pungent odor, so he must have used it to awaken me.

As I get my bearings, I notice the concerned looks of everyone in the room; then I spy two men I don't recognize. The first is tall, slender, with brown hair and eyes wearing a suit. The second is tall, well-built with dark hair and eyes. He's wearing a uniform, holster with a gun and a badge. It's then I understand. He is the man from outside the door. The officer I heard speaking. And then my mind begs to escape again into the nothingness.

"Miss Swan, are you all right," the officer asks kindly.

I shake my head trying to clear it and then nod to him.

"Miss Swan, my name is Officer Embry Call. This is Detective Sam Uley and we need to speak to you about your parents," he speaks quietly.

I hold up a finger to him, asking him for a moment and get up from Emmett's lap. I walk into the library and see Alice sitting in her favorite chair with a journal in her lap. She looks up at me as I enter with such sadness in her eyes.

"I can't do this alone Alice. I need you to be with me," I plead in a whisper.

She looks at me for a moment; closes the journal and sets it on the side table, gets up, walks up to me and takes my hand. No words are spoken, as we both turn and re-enter the parlor taking a seat on the divan.

I look to Officer Call holding tightly to Alice's hand. "My name is Bella and this is my sister Alice," I introduce ourselves to them.

Officer Call clears his throat. "I wish that I could have met you both under different circumstances but I need to inform you of some tragic news." He takes a calming breath before he goes on. "And this news is that your parents have died."

With those words spoken, the room is as silent and cold as a mausoleum.

"When?" I quietly ask.

"Last evening around 10 pm," Officer Call answers.

Stunned, I squeeze Alice's hand in comfort as she let out a low moan. That's when her nightmare occurred.

Then I remember that they weren't supposed to come home until today, "I'm sorry, but I'm confused; my parents weren't expected to arrive until later on today."

Officer Call nods his head understanding my question. "There are some questions we need to ask of the both of you. Detective Uley here is in charge of the investigation. Is there some place where we can speak privately?" Officer Call glances around at everyone gathered around the parlor.

Movement begins around the room as the McCarty's, the Clearwater's and Mrs. Cope start to leave the room. Alice and I can't be left there alone. They're all the family we have left, I think to myself, as I start to panic.

"No!" I say to the room at large. "Stay, please stay." I look to the gentlemen and beg. "Please, they will hear about all of this as it is. They are all the family Alice and I have left. Please, let them stay?"

Officer Call and Detective Uley look at each other for a moment, then in silent agreement, both nod their heads at us. The McCarty's and Seth all leave the room and come back with extra chairs for everyone to have a seat. Mrs. Cope with Leah go to the kitchen and bring back trays with glasses of water, a coffee pot, cups and a basket of biscuits and cookies.

After everyone is settled, Detective Uley speaks for the first time in a deep voice. "I do want to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. I know it's hard to hear but as hard as it is, I do have to ask you a few questions. Miss Bella, you said that your parents weren't to arrive until today. Can you explain that to me more fully?"

I take in a deep breath and then blow it out trying to get my jangled nerves under control then begin, "We received a letter on Tuesday from our parents, they have been touring Europe since October, but wrote that they would be returning later today."

Detective Uley has taken out a pen and little pad as I began to speak and jotted down notes. "So you didn't know that their ship arrived early?"

"No, I didn't. We have been working to clean the house for their arrival and that of their guest."

"Their guest?" Detective Uley is suddenly alert.

"Yes, in their letter, they said that they had a guest who was going to be staying with us. They didn't give a name or gender."

Detective Uley writes on his pad.

"Can I ask question, sir?" I'm looking at Detective Uley. He looks at me and knows what I'm going to ask, then nods slowly.

"Can you tell us what happened?" I ask dreading the answer but needing to know.

"You have to understand Miss Swan, that there is an investigation going on due to the way your parents died," he offers quietly.

Then I understand what he doesn't say. This isn't an accident. This is worse than that. Again, coldness rips through my body.

"How?" I barely manage to get out.

Detective Uley looks at me, then everyone else in the room. He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable with revealing or reliving the details, I'm not sure which. "Last night a patrol officer heading to the port spotted a car on the west bound side of the road. He pulled over, got out and immediately noticed two bodies on the ground. He radioed in for help. As he approached, he noticed they had both been shot in the head." The entire room gasps.

Alice starts moaning again. I clasp both arms around her and rock her, trying to give her comfort for a few minutes. As I hold her close to my chest, gently running my hands through her hair, I look around the room, at the shocked and anguish filled eyes of my friends, no doubt reflecting my own. I don't even realize I'm crying, until Emmett, who sits next to me, offers me his handkerchief. With one hand I reach for the handkerchief and wipe the tears away, never letting go of Alice. Willing my body and brain for control, I look at Detective Uley and quietly say, "Go on."

Detective Uley nods again and continues. "I was next to arrive at the scene. Your parents were already gone; there was nothing that could be done for them. I'm sorry." I nod, still rocking Alice.

"It looks as if your father was repairing a flat tire on the automobile. It must have been sprinkling, because it appears your mother was holding an umbrella, maybe over their heads as he fixed the flat. From the tracks, we can tell another automobile pulled up behind them. Two sets of footprints were found leading to the front of the automobile where your parents were and then going back to the second automobile."

He shifts in his seat, takes a sip of his coffee then begins again, "It wasn't a robbery. Nothing seems to have been taken from the automobile; wallet, handbag and luggage were all found undisturbed in the automobile."

He pauses after that statement and I become confused. If nothing was taken, why kill my parents? Were the killers interrupted?

"Do you have an idea of who did it?" asks Emmett.

Detective Uley shakes his head, no. "We don't, but we've just started the investigation. The only thing we do have is a clue that was left by Mrs. Swan before she passed."

"My mother left a clue?" I'm surprise and hope that whoever did this will be found soon.

"Yes, she did. We're not releasing that piece of information. We're hoping it will help find the killers and I request that none of you speak of this bit of information." We all nod understanding that statement.

Mr. McCarty acknowledges the request, "If it will help find the sons of a bitches that did this to this family, I know there is no one in this room that will speak of it."

Again we all nod. Then something occurs to me. "Wait, they had an automobile? We expected that they would be on the train, which arrives later in the day."

"Well, they were driving a 1934 Aston Martin Lagonda. The registration is titled to that of one Mr. Edward Cullen. Do you know him?" Officer Call questions us.

"No, we don't know him. My parents said a guest would be coming to visit, maybe it was him?" I can only guess.

"Miss Bella, I have to ask you this. Well, everyone in this room really. Can any of you think of someone who may have disliked Mr. and or Mrs. Swan enough to want them dead? Revenge for some wrong that they might have felt? Maybe not being hired because of race? Anything that you can think of?" Detective Uley probes.

Mr. McCarty speaks first. "My name is Jack McCarty and I have only worked for the Swans as their foreman a couple years. What I can tell you is, I would not have worked for him if he were a prejudice man. As he liked to say of this Plantation, 'it's colorblind,' and I can tell you that's the truth. Everyone is paid equally for the job that is done."

Mrs. Cope speaks next. "My name is Mrs. Melissa Cope and I have been working for the Swans as their housekeeper for 25 years now. While the Swan's had many friends, they didn't try to be part of the social class of people, as they could have been. They enjoyed they're quiet life here with family and rarely went into town if they could help it."

Surprisingly, Seth spoke next. "My name is Seth Clearwater and this is my sister Leah. Our father, Harry had been friends with Mr. Swan since childhood. Our father just passed away, but we can tell you that never once did he ever speak of Mr. Swan with anything except admiration, respect and affection. He loved him like a brother and Mrs. Swan like a sister." Leah with tears streaming down her face, nods her head with every sentence Seth utters.

Emmett speaks last. "My name is Emmett McCarty, my father," he nods to Mr. McCarty, "is right. Everyone that has worked here, from regular hired hands to sharecroppers had nothing but respect for Mr. Swan. Hell, even when we were full up on hired help, you would hear Mr. Swan telling a man, 'I can't hire anymore people, but if you need some food to tie you and your family over for a while, go up to the house and I'm sure my wife or housekeeper will find you something.' That's the Swan family for you. He was respected by so many."

All I can add is, "There is no one that I can think of who hated my parents enough to kill them." Alice is silently crying on my shoulder again, she can barely shake her head to the officers.

Detective Uley puts away his pen and pad after a moment of note taking. He looks at me and Alice with compassion in his eyes and asks, "Is there anything you would like to add or ask Miss Bella?"

Blinking back the tears in my eyes, I whisper, "When can we plan for my parents to come home?" He knows what I mean. I just can't say it any other way.

"Your parents should be released by tomorrow or Sunday and will be brought here on the train. They had some baggage that was left at the train station in a holding area; if you want, I can take clothes back with me, to have them buried in. I can also arrange the coffins for you, at the port, to help ease your burden," Officer Call offers, with sad eyes.

I'm reminded again about how they were killed and nod my head. I nudge Alice off my shoulder; I rise from the divan and grab her hand. "We'll take you up on your kind offer, Officer Call," I murmur, looking at the two men. "Just give us a little time and we will be back with clothing and funds. If you're hungry, Mrs. Cope, I'm sure won't mind getting you something to eat. Excuse us, please."

Alice and I walk up the stairs to our parent's room. As I open the door, the smell of Renee's perfume and Charlie's earthly scent fill my lungs. It feels like they're still here. Alice feels it too. She squeezes my hand as we enter their room.

Looking around, you can see a little bit of them everywhere. A large picture from their wedding day hangs over their bed. A recent family portrait hangs over my mother's vanity. Renee's colorful perfume bottle collection with the atomizers attached. Charlie's pocket watch collection displayed on cotton in a flat box with a glass lid. Everywhere you look, reflects a piece of them.

Clearing my head with a shake I walk into their closet. It dawns on me that they would have taken their nicest clothes with them to Europe and that their luggage is at the port. "Alice, their best clothes are in their luggage. We don't have anything here for them."

Alice doesn't hesitate for a moment. She walks to the back of the closet and pulls a dress that's wrapped up in cloth and then a suit also wrapped up.

"Their wedding clothes? You think they should be buried in these?" I'm surprised.

Alice looks to their wedding picture and the love that's reflected in their eyes for all to see. They'd never spent a day apart. Very rarely did they have disagreements and those they did have were minor and when resolved would end with fiery kisses.

On their 20th wedding anniversary, Renee thought it would be fun to see if she and Charlie could still fit into their wedding clothes. When they came down the stairs, Charlie was holding her hand up high like she was a princess. She did look like one, wearing her white gown with tiara and veil attached on her head. Charlie looked so handsome in his black double breasted suit jacket, white shirt and black pants. Alice and I had dinner in our sitting room that night, giving them a romantic evening to themselves.

That is the image that will forever be in my mind from now on when I think of my parents. Their beauty, happiness and love for each other.

We return downstairs, me carrying Charlie's suit and Alice carrying Renee's dress. I enter the library and pull away the fireplace screen. I open the safe and count out five hundred dollars. I know how much a coffin costs. Mr. Black let everyone know how much he spent on Mr. Clearwater's and I want the best for my parents. Plus, the extra will pay for the train. Closing and locking the safe, I put back the screen and with Charlie's suit in hand walk into the parlor where everyone remained.

"Here is five hundred dollars, Officer Call. This should pay for the coffins and train fare. If it's not, we promise to pay you back," I quietly promise as I hand the money to him. "We need to make arrangements for the burial for this Sunday at Bonaventure Cemetery."

"I'm sure it's more than enough, Miss Bella. We were just discussing your parent's possessions and the automobile. If it's all right with you, Detective Uley and I would like to bring them to you and attend the funeral. We can drive the automobile here. It would save you a trip."

I nod my head at them. "That would be much appreciated. I'm sure that after morning church services, Reverend Weber will be available by 2:00 pm." I feel so cold and numb; my speech is mechanical, reciting words that are expected.

"We'll be there on Sunday. Here are our cards." He hands me the cards with their names and information on them. "If you can think of anything, even the littlest bit of information that might help us, let us know and you can also call us to ask us questions. Once again, I'm very sorry to be the bearer of such news."

"Thank you, Officer Call. We appreciate your thoughtfulness in all that you are doing in bringing our parents' home. Detective Uley, please feel free to contact us with any further questions and thank you for coming," I say emotionless.

Alice and I hand the two men the clothing and I led them to the door. As the two men step out, my gaze lands on the hibernating fields as far as the eye can see. Sleeping, like my parents are now, I muse.

And all at once it hits me. My parents were never really coming home. It was as if, for a brief period of time I was able to fool my brain with automatic speaking and movement, but now it no longer works. I sway on my feet and then I welcome the darkness once again.

H~~H

Sunday afternoon is a drizzly day. Seth drives the car with Mrs. Cope in the front seat. Alice, Leah and I sit in the back. Late yesterday afternoon, Mr. McCarty and Emmett went to meet the train to collect my parent's possessions and my parents in the plantation truck. God, that is so hard to think about. So I turn my thoughts to the last few days.

Everyone around us have been angels. Seth and Leah giving back the same strength that we gave them. Mrs. Cope, always the motherly type, is there for hugs and comfort. Emmett and Mr. McCarty our rocks, taking the burden off our shoulders when they can.

Emmett went and fetched Reverend Weber so we could go over the details of the service. He's a very compassionate man when he isn't intoning on the coming apocalypse. We talk about putting notice in the paper, letting people know the time and place—but there isn't time and I don't want whispered words at the gravesite while laying my parent to rest. Murder doesn't happen to people like Charlie and Renee. That will be the main topic for months when word spreads.

Not how wonderful and kind they were.

Not how much their family meant everything to them.

Not how Charlie was a man of his word or when he spoke to someone, his words had merit.

Not how Renee gave freely of her easy smiles and loving nature or her service to the community.

That would all be surpassed by that one word. No, I want only family and close friends who are now family to Alice and me.

Mr. McCarty drove me to the cemetery that Friday afternoon when I pulled myself together. I met with the director and made arrangements for the delivery of my parents to the family plot. I paid them their fee so I wouldn't have to think about it later. I was keeping my mind busy so I wouldn't be overwhelmed with the thoughts of the investigation.

Alice has nightmares every night since that first fateful evening. She wakes me with her crying and terrified moans. Each night I go to her room to comfort her and only then will she finally get some rest. She has remained voiceless, never once speaking when she's awake, only mumbling in her unconscious despair. Nightmares consume her in darkness and muteness rules her days.

We arrive at the cemetery and make our way to the burial spot together—a silent parade dressed from head to toe in black mourning clothes. My eyes wonder in the misty morning to the grounds and at the moss hanging from the large oak trees, swaying in the gentle breeze, bearing witness to the grief and loss that surrounds us.

These trees, some well over a hundred years old, standing sentinel over this area. In 1771, this site was originally a family plantation of almost a thousand acres, named Bonaventure, which in French meant 'good fortune.' In the beginning of the American Revolution the owner's declared they were loyalist to King George III. The newly patriotic State of Georgia took issue with this and banished them and confiscated their land.

Savannah, however, was taken over by the British later during the war. A bloody battle occurred here, on these very grounds, in an attempt to seize Savannah from the British 1779. It failed and upon their defeat, the French army and its allies departed from Bonaventure—and it's said, they buried far too many unidentified soldiers here. So much loss has occurred right here that to me it's fitting that this site has been turned into a place of rest for the dead.

I remember reading that John Muir, the naturalist, in 1867 observed these same live oaks, with birds and other nightly creatures and wrote that the cemetery was "a center of life." Penniless in Savannah, Muir spent several nights sleeping in this cemetery, waiting for his family to send him money so he could continue his '1,000 mile walk.'

Life and death, a continuum of a never ending cycle. You can't have one without the other. They are inseparable as unfair as that may seem.

I'm stirred from my reflections as we reach our family plot. My gaze takes in that Emmett and Mr. McCarty are already here. I then notice Officer Call and Detective Uley. Then I flinch when I spy Jacob.

"Jacob, what are you doing here? Is Mister Black coming also?" I ask with as much civility as I can muster. I did not want to see Mister Black today.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice the two officers paying close attention to my questions or my tone. I wasn't sure which.

"No Bella, it's just me. I wanted to give my condolences to you and Alice. I'm sorry about your parents," he sounds genuinely sorry.

"How did you know? I never posted anything," I'm still confused by his presence.

"Word gets around Bella, you should know that," he states, frustrated that I am questioning his reason to be there.

I just nod back and look to Reverend Weber to begin. The eulogy is simple, just the way Charlie and Renee would prefer it. The coffins are lowered into the cold ground. Alice and I take a shovel that is at the head of the graves and together put dirt into each one as I whisper, "We love you" to the both of them. A feeling of peace washes away some of the grief I feel.

As we all turn to leave and let the workers finish what Alice and I started, I notice that the two officers are speaking with Jacob. I can't hear their conversation and I really don't care to. My eyes wander a little to the side and I notice a tall figure, dark hair, dressed in black, standing like a silent sentry. The man seems to shake himself out of his stupor, when he catches my eye, and begins to walk quickly away. It makes me wonder if he was attending for Charlie and Renee. I cast my eyes around us and there are no other services at the moment. He must have been there for them. But who is he? I realize that Charlie and Renee had many friends, and maybe unlike Jacob, respected our wishes and didn't want to intrude.

As we reach the automobile, I notice a shiny new one parked near ours. Mr. McCarty walks to it with key in hand and I realize that it is the car Charlie and Renee were driving. Mr. McCarty says, "We're storing it until Mr. Cullen comes to claim it." I simple nod my head. Yes, the surprise guest that never came, if that's who it was. That is another mystery to solve for another day.

The ride home is as quiet as the ride to the cemetery. We will have an early supper with our little family to put an end to our day. It will be a day to reflect and maybe speak more of Charlie and Renee. My heart hurts, my head hurts, and my whole body hurts from the stress and strain of our loss.

As I walk into our home, I immediately catch a scent that I instantly recognize. I gaze into the parlor and there, sitting on the divan, is a beautiful site. She immediately stands up, runs to me and engulfs me in a huge hug. Tears fill my eyes as I hug her back with all my strength.

Rosalie has come home to us.


	13. Prostrate to Potential

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better. I can never say thank you enough. Her stories based on The Hunger Games are really good! Check them out!**

T**hank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. I really appreciate your thoughts,critiques and the smiles and laughs you give me. Speaking of critiques, my timeline was out of order and I have swapped around original chapters 11 and 12. Thank you DG! Awesome catch.**

**Chapter 12**

**Prostrate to Potential**

**Winter 1933**

**Edward**

I wake up feeling sick to my stomach. I lay flat on my aching back; my mind slowly working trying to figure out why I'm on the floor, surrounded by my clothes that are scattered everywhere, and why my jaw hurts like hell. I reach up and touch it lightly trying to soothe the pain, as my head feels as if it might explode.

Gradually, the memories come back to me; the redhead, the bar, the blond man, the dizziness. Then reality hits me hard. The Swan's money that I hid under the bed was taken. The blond man, what did she call him? I think she called him James. Yes, that's his name. James was at the bar and then here. He found the bag easily and knocked me out. It was a set up by Victoria and James. I was their perfect victim.

I groan at my own stupidity. Here I thought I was having my first actual conversation with a woman who didn't want something from me, only to realize now how utterly wrong I am. "Bloody hell!" I yell to the ceiling only to succeed in making my head throb worse.

I need to start moving. I need to contact the authorities. I need to see them thrown in jail! I roll over, slowly stand up, as I gaze around the room and then stop as I look out from the bay window. I see clouds surrounded in amber and coral tones on the horizon. It's evening the next day? I must have been unconscious for almost twenty hours.

I find my toiletries bag, surprised by the small miracle that it hadn't been taken. I open the bag and count the money inside. I have a little over a thousand dollars. It's not even a drop in the bucket to what I was holding for the Swans. I shove the money back in the bag and take out my shaving kit. I feel my jaw, which is still throbbing and then pass on shaving.

I make my way down the hall to the lavatory. Thankfully, no one is using it.

My stomach is still queasy but splashing cold water on my face seems to help me regain control of my senses. After spending ten minutes cleaning up in the bath, I return to my room feeling a bit better.

I survey the room seeing clothing strewn everywhere. Picking up a pair of jeans and my winter shirt, I change clothes amid the chaos. The shock is starting to wear off and once again I think of the Swan's money being taken. I can't believe that this has happened. Then realization strikes again. It's been almost 24 hours since the money was taken. My drink must have been drugged; there can be no other explanation for the dizziness and lethargy that occurred so rapidly.

I was a pawn in their game and paid off big. They're probably hundreds of miles away by now. I need to contact the authorities now!

H~~H

With determination in my step, I head downstairs to the front desk. The women from last night, is stationed there again. As I begin to ask her where the closest station is located, Chatterbox, with no preamble, begins to recount an enthusiastic telling of the previous night's events. "You will never believe what happened last night!"

I'm feverishly hoping that James and Victoria have been caught and the Swan's money will be returned to them. After all, their name was burned into the leather of the bag.

"Just outside of the port, heading towards Savannah, a couple was gunned down in cold blood," she explains in morbid excitement. I have to clear my head because I wasn't expecting that.

"Excuse me? When did this happen?" As soon as the words leave my mouth, my stomach drops and my head starts pounding quickly. I grip my head, leaning on the front desk, on my elbows. _Please don't say it. Please don't say it._

"Around 10:00 pm last night. They must have been heading to their home." She leans in close to me and whispers confidentially, "I heard they were shot in the head."

I can't move, I can't think, I can't breathe. I don't know why, but I know it was Charlie and Renee. I need to hear it spoken, out loud. I stand up straight as I ask, "Do you know their names?"

She glances up at me, taking in my features, which I can only imagine are pale and distraught. Then she looks at my clothes, such a change from the Italian handmade suit of yesterday. I'm not sure if she speaks out of worry, for her sake or mine, as she replies softly with concern, "Swan, just like the one embroidered on your shirt pocket."

My mind becomes a chaotic jumble of thoughts. I should have left with them. I could have prevented this. Their money wouldn't have been stolen. This is my fault! What is going to happen to Bella and Alice? I need to go to the authorities and tell them what happened.

Then my mind starts to backtrack. What if the authorities don't believe me? I used a different name at registration. If I tell them my real name is Cullen, or that the money was from proceeds of cotton sold to my parents, and an investigation is conducted further, they will find out that we didn't pay the tariffs. My parents could be arrested. Maybe they'll think I was part of an elaborate scheme; pretending to have the monies stolen, and Charlie and Renee had to die, to take the focus off of me.

"Are you all right, Sir? You look a little under the weather. Can I get you anything?" Chatterbox asks kindly.

I just shake my head, no, but then say aloud, "No, thank you."

I turn and walk back up the stairs to my room. Once I lie down upon the bed, I let my mind wonder. This was not the welcome I was expecting coming to this country. All my hopes at finding a new life have been shattered within hours of my arrival. The people that I had come to think of as close friends, if not family, are murdered. _Murdered!_ That is still unfathomable to me. Had I been with them, this would never have happened.

My own stupidity from last night, I should have recognized the signs. How easy and almost intimate Victoria and James looked when I returned to the table. Was I once again, subconsciously arrogant in thinking myself better than him, when she asked him to leave? By then, my drink must have already been laced with whatever it was, to make me such an easy target.

Returning full circle to my thoughts of Charlie and Renee, gone forever, the great loss for Bella and Alice, my parent's loss and mine, I cry.

Time slid by as silent tears stream down the sides of my face wondering what I should do now. Can I go to the authorities, explain that I had the Swans' money and coincidently it was stolen around the same time they are murdered? My name change at check-in is sure to bring up more questions. "Damn, they were even driving a vehicle registered to me," I groan quietly. I feel like the gods are punishing me for something.

From my vantage point, I am on some collision course to disaster and I don't know when it will end.

I have never been a religious man, but right now I'm praying to every single god there is or ever was to help me. My mind is exhausted from the emotional turmoil, my body weak from whatever I was drugged with still affecting me, and from lack of nourishment. My last thought before sleep claimed me was "please god, let me find a way out of this, if not for Charlie and Renee, then for Bella and Alice."

H~~H

Saturday, I wake up with the sun shining brightly, streaming through the window.

I cover my face with a pillow, and try to shut down the thoughts that start racing through my mind about the murders, to the theft and the Swan sisters all alone. It's a never ending circle that brings me back to the beginning of not knowing what to do.

Can I go to the authorities?

Will they believe my story?

Will I be guilty until proven innocent?

Should I just try to suffocate myself now?

I think about contacting my parents but the sorrow and humiliation is too fresh. I'm also concerned, that should accusations become leveled at me, their name will be tarnished. This is something I need to deal with, instead of running like a child to my parents. What was Charlie's expression regarding the follies of the young males? "They need to man up." Well, that's what I need to do. 'Man up' and deal with whatever consequences are forthcoming.

After I put on clean jeans, and a fresh shirt, I repack the rest of my clothes. I grab my toiletries bag and head down the hall to the communal bath. I shave, brush my teeth and wash my face. I gaze in the mirror and see my jaw looks blue, green and yellow from the bruises James had imparted on me. I make a silent vow that someday we would meet up again and he will be on the receiving end. Bastard; he thought he stole from me—not knowing who the money belonged to. If it had been mine alone, I could deal with it, but it wasn't. It belonged to the Swan's and I was responsible for that. Yes, he will pay for putting me in this position.

Grabbing my bag, I head back to my room. Put on my socks and boots, pick up my two bags and head downstairs. This morning I'm in time for breakfast. My stomach grumbles as I realize I haven't eaten since the last supper with Renee and Charlie.

I groan lightly to myself, remembering the happiness and joy that radiated from the two of them at the thought of seeing their daughters again. I want to keep that memory fresh in my head. Not the words I heard about them yesterday.

I put my bags down under an empty table and take a seat. A server immediately comes up and I order eggs, sausage and toast. She asks how I want my coffee, and since tea wasn't offered, I go with black.

Two gentlemen are seated at the table next to me, having a quiet conversation but since it's so quiet in the room, I can hear their words easily.

The one who looks to be the elder of the two asks, "So, I'm going to get to drive the Aston Martin to the Swan's right?"

They are talking about Charlie and Renee! This has my immediate attention.

"Sure, if that makes you happy," the larger but younger looking one answers, "as long as you help me ensure that all is right with the loading of the bodies and their possessions on the train this morning. I don't want anything more to go wrong for those girls. They have enough to deal with."

Sadness grips my heart thinking about Bella and Alice.

Elder nods, "Agreed, I just hope that this investigation doesn't stall. I want to catch the bastards that did this. I also want to know about this Edward Cullen. The passenger list from the Cullen's ship log confirms he was on it but he seems to have disappeared. I find that highly suspicious."

Hearing this, my stomach drops. I'm defiantly wanted for questioning.

Younger shrugs his shoulders before saying, "There were only four sets of prints, two from the Swans' and two from the automobile that pulled in behind them. There's no way that there was room in that automobile for a third passenger."

Just then the server brings my food. I thank her quietly and become lost in my thoughts. The Swans are now going home by train. But at least their possessions will get to the girls. They want to talk to me. Just as I'm getting ready to 'man up,' the clerk from the front desk walks to my table swinging her hips, batting her eyelashes and pouting at me. "So Mr. Masen, you'll be leaving us today?"

I look at up at her, and from the corner of my eye notice that the two men are now listening to my conversation. Both of the men chuckle at her blatant attempt at flirting.

I sigh, frustrated that she interrupted my ease dropping, and that she used the Masen name, when I was about ready to confess. I simply reply, "Yes," in my best low voice southern drawl. For some reason, the girl just stands there unmoving. I clear my throat and she blushes brilliant red, puts my registration receipt on the table and leaves.

I have not a clue what just happened, but both men actually laugh out loud. I look at them in confusion, wondering what was funny and they both just shake their heads and then sip their coffee.

I'm finishing my meal, trying to figure out what my next move should be and where I should spend the night. Bloody hell, if I go to the authorities, I might have a place to stay for years. My internal monolog is interrupted, when I hear Elder speaks, "So tomorrow's the funeral? Do you know where it'll be at?"

"Bonaventure Cemetery. The funeral director has already made contact with the coroner's office so everything should go smoothly. It's at 2:00 pm," Younger answers.

"We'll need to be there early; to watch the service to see if someone unusual appears," replies Elder.

"I just wish I knew what Mrs. Swan was trying to tell us," sighs Younger.

H~~H

It's later in the day, as I travel by train to the City of Savannah. It is entirely possible that the Swans are on this train for their last family reunion and the thought is heartbreaking. Savannah is a beautiful place but that's all I notice. My mind is elsewhere. I need to find a hotel and map to find the cemetery. I need to go to the service and pay my respects to Charlie and Renee Swan. I need to reassure myself that Bella and Alice are surviving this sad time. I can't speak to anyone right now until I know what I'm going to do, but I can be there for them.

Luckily for me, when I check into the first hotel I find, it's with an older man of few words, "How many nights?" he asks.

"Two." I reply.

He has me pay, sign the registration card, hands me a key, merely points to the stairs and says, "Room 204—second floor."

I find the room easily and throw my bags on the bed. I need a plan of action. I've decided that a foreigner having connections to a murdered couple, my name change, and stolen funds doesn't bode well for me. I'll continue using the Masen name for the time being. I know that my intent is to repay the Swan sisters but I have to figure out how to do that. I need to find the cemetery. For that I need to have transportation. I don't think I can hire a vehicle. They may ask questions that I can't answer. I'll have to purchase my own. There's a newspaper on a side table to the bed. I grab it and search through the automobile ads.

The sad part of living during the depression is the dire need of money. So much so, that valuable possessions are sold incredibly cheap. I never really paid attention to the angst that surrounded those less fortunate than me. I was in my own little world of the rich and clueless. Maybe not clueless, more like I couldn't of cared less. It was easy to continue to build upon my family's wealth. God, what an arrogant bastard I am. I shake my head, _was, I was that,_ I've had a reality check of the greatest proportion.

It's too late in the day to spend much time looking for a vehicle. I'm restless and need to get out of the room before the situation paralyzes me. I grab my coat and hat, deciding to have a look around to get my bearings while bringing the paper with me. Walking the streets, I notice how many stores, shops and banks are closed, with out of business signs posted in the windows. I'm glad that I at least had the foresight to exchange my pounds for the American dollar before I came here. I'm not sure I would have been able to exchange any of my notes.

I find a café that's practically empty, with only one other customer—a gentleman with a Stetson hat riding low on his head with blond curls barely visible. I don't wait to be seated choosing to take a table close to him. Right now I feel the need for any live body in close vicinity. I already feel so alone.

I take off my coat and after being seated for about five minutes, a tired looking young woman comes to the table, handing me a menu while asking in a bored voice, "What would you like to drink?"

"Water, please," I ask with my head down, pursuing the menu, not knowing what else they have to drink. She turns and leaves to get the water, I assume.

The man in the booth across from me chuckles. I raise my head to look at him, to glean what was funny. The man tips up his hat and drawls, "Good thing you didn't ask for the coffee here—it's horrible."

"Thanks for the warning," I acknowledge the comment.

"You're not from around here. Just visiting?" he asks.

"No, not really, just passing through, I guess you could say," I admit.

I have no idea what my plans are apart from finding a vehicle, attending the funeral and paying back the Swan sisters. How I'm going to do the last one, escapes me. I'm a good business man, but with so many businesses closed here, this town doesn't seem to hold much hope. Lost in my thoughts, I don't see the server come to the table and place the water on the table.

"Are you ready to order?" her impatient tone grating on my nerves.

"Do you have any suggestions?" I ask, looking up at her.

The server then takes in my appearance, raking her eyes from my hair to my boots, back up again stopping at my crotch, smiling widely, then back to my face, she winks at me and her tone has changed, "I have a suggestion that's not on the menu, darlin'."

I've had this happen to me, more than a few times, and if it been a year ago, I might have taken her up on her offer. But since meeting the Swans, my own enlightenment and my last conversation with a woman, I'm definitely not interested.

"Try the fried chicken with cottage fries," the man from the booth suggests. Then he chuckles again as he looks at the server with a devious smile, "It's the best thing they have to offer here."

The server turns sharply, with her hands on her hips, not liking his tone or comment. "If you aren't going to order anything, you need to leave."

The man rises from the table and I didn't realize how tall or how lean he is. He looks like he could use a good meal himself. I don't know why I do it, but I offer, "Do you want to join me for some fried chicken?" Maybe it's the need to start redeeming myself. It can't hurt to start somewhere.

The man tips his hat to the server smiling, "Two chicken and fries, please." The server walks off in a huff.

He slides into the seat across from me as he says, "This is mighty kind of you, thank you." He pulls off his hat setting on the seat next to him and holds out his hand. "My names Jasper; Jasper Whitlock from Texas," he introduces.

"Edward Cul… uh, Edward Masen from England. It's a pleasure to meet you," I respond, extending my hand and gripping his. He quirks an eyebrow at my obvious change of name but doesn't ask what it's about.

"So Edward Masen, you just passing through? Do you have a destination in the end?" he grins casually.

I smirk—he's calling me out on my slip. But he's also letting me know that it would be my story to tell, and he'll wait, if I want to tell it. I appreciate that.

"After tomorrow, I have no idea," I give back honestly.

"After tomorrow, huh? Well that sounds intriguing. A man of mystery it would seem," he laughs. He looks at the newspaper on the table, then back at me. "If you're looking for a job, you aren't going to find one in there. I should know, I've been looking for a while now," he says with a depreciative smile.

"At the moment, I'm looking for an inexpensive vehicle," I sigh. My mind flashing again through all that's occurred.

"Well, I can help you with that. I know the area pretty well and can guide you where you need to go. I'm not doing anything as it is, and this way I can repay you for the meal," he amiably replies.

The server arrives with our food, setting a plate in front of me with what I can only describe as her attempt for a seductive smile. Then she slams Jasper's plate down in front of him, turns and walks away.

"She's not happy with me," he says confidentially, "I didn't succumb to her winning ways." Then he laughs again.

"Then I would check to make sure she hasn't poisoned your food," I snicker.

He looks down at his plate, pokes around the chicken and fries, checking to make sure all looks right, then looks up to me with a wicked glint in his eyes, "Nah, she would miss me too much. I keep her entertained," he sniggers.

I bark out a laugh at his confidence. It feels like the first time I've laughed in some time.

I'm really starting to like this Jasper Whitlock. He's tranquil, with a comforting demeanor, plus he's actually made me smile with his light humor. His disarming charisma is letting me finally relax.

We both began eating in companionable silence. "Tell me about yourself, Jasper," I ask after a few minutes pass.

"Not really much to tell. I'm from Texas. I'm a historian of American history. I was working at the University of Texas at Austin in the library, but cutbacks and lack of seniority caused me to lose my job." Briefly, sadness enters his eyes but he shakes his head and then continues. "I've tried to get a job working on farms, ranches, mills, but no one is hiring." He smiles ruefully, "Now I am just hoping to find a partner for what I think will be a very lucrative business."

Curiosity gets the best of me and I think he knew that would happen. So I bite, "Well, what would be this 'lucrative business'—as you put it?"

He gives me a full grin, then shakes his head, no, "I think I need to know a little bit more about you Edward, before I tell you my idea. I need to know who I'm dealing with, ya know."

I do know. I would ask the same thing. I stare at Jasper wondering if I can trust him. So far, my time in the States hasn't endeared me to many people. But, I need a way to make money to repay my debt. I also need someone to talk to about my dilemma. I need to trust someone and I hope that I'm right that I can do that with this stranger.

I nod at Jaspers plate, "Finish your meal, then we'll go to my room and I'll tell you a story. Then you can decide if you want to deal with me."

He acknowledges me by diving into his food. After we're finished; with Jasper in tow, I pay the bill, ignore the server, and walk down the street until I find a store that sells alcohol. I need liquid courage if I'm going to tell my story. I'm thankful that prohibition in the States ended last month. I buy a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. We walk back to the hotel where Jasper follows me to my room.

We take off our coats, hats and make ourselves comfortable. I pull out the two glasses, open the whiskey, pour two shots, hand one to Jasper while keeping mine close to me. Jasper never says a word as he takes the glass offered, salutes me, and then tosses it back.

Taking a sip, feeling the burn of my throat, I begin my story. I leave nothing out except the way we avoided the tariffs. I speak of my parents, my life living in wealth, meeting the Swans, to my arrival in the States, Victoria and James, to the authorities I sat next to. Ending with my need to attend the funeral tomorrow and repay my debt to the Swan sisters.

For the longest time, Jasper sits deep in thought, after I tell him of my circumstances. I pour another shot for the both of us. I wait for him to speak, wondering if he will be my savior or executioner.

Finally, Jasper declares, "You've been to hell and back it would seem in less than three days. I also believe you—that's not a tale someone could just make up. If you want, I can help you find an automobile tomorrow and drive with you to the cemetery."

"Thank you," is all I could manage with my throat tightening up.

"You do know that if you're spotted at the service, those investigators will recognize you and you'll have a lot of explaining to do. Even though I believe you and I think they will eventually, they could hold you for an incredible amount of time," he says in a voice of reason.

"I know, I need to get there maybe an hour before the service starts, to try and figure out where it will be held. Then I'll find a place to observe the service and leave right after so I'm not seen," I voice my idea.

Jasper must have been thinking along the same lines. He nods his head in agreement. "Then what?" he asks.

I shrugged my shoulders and pour another drink for the both of us, "That's as far as my plans go. I need to make money as I've told you. You said you need a partner. What's your idea?"

Jasper takes a sip from his glass and smiles at me. "Well I told you that I am a historian." I nod. "Being a historian, one of the things that interests me, is visiting museums and sometimes being able to hold an object and learn the history. Like, what story would this piece say if it could talk?"

He finishes his drink and sets the glass down and continues, "This may sound callus, but because of this era of depression, people are selling their family heirlooms for nothing. Some of the things sold are worth a fortune, but they can't read the marks to know the age or don't know the history. They just want to feed their families." He looks down as if in shame for his thoughts. Looking up at me he says, "There are items in thrift stores around here, that if I could buy them, do some research on these items and then resell them to museums, colleges with certain collections or the wealthy, I could make a fortune."

He sits up straighter and looks me in the eye, "You have some money right?" I nod. "I know specifically where there's this one piece, with a price tag of $20 on it, and it can be resold for $200. If you're my partner, you would pay the $20 up front; I know a buyer and once it's sold, you get back your twenty bucks plus $90—that's one half the profits." The excitement that lights his eyes is contagious.

Being a business man, my first thought is that if it's too good to be true it probably is. However, with the times being what they are, it makes sense that money can still be made. I believe Jasper and at this point, I figure the worst that I could lose is a few meals and twenty dollars.

I refill his glass on the table, put out my hand and he takes it, in a gentlemen's agreement, we lift our glasses and say, "Cheers."

H~~H

Jasper has been sleeping in a church refectory, for men only, so I offered him the divan with a pillow and blanket. Right before I fall asleep, I replay the evening in my head. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have a friend. He listened to my story without any condescending words.

There wasn't any competition on who had the best story. In fact, we sort of complimented each other on our give and take in conversation. I hope that when I wake up in the morning I'm not wrong or robbed again.

When I awake the next morning, I roll on to my side, to see Jasper sitting up reading the paper. He looks up from it and smiles at me, "Good Morning."

I smile back, clearing my throat still deep from sleep repeating the greeting. He's still smiling, so I quirk a brow at him, wondering what's going on in his head.

He smiles wider then asks, "You know you talk in your sleep?" I shake my head, no. I didn't know I did that. What did I say that has him smiling so much?

He grins, seeming to understand my thoughts, "If I didn't believe your story last night, I do now. Your concern for the Swan sisters and your guilt about their parents is very humbling. You're a good man Edward Cullen aka Masen, which by the way you should stick with. I'm glad we met. I think we'll be great friends," he says sincerely.

I'm speechless and hopeful. It's comforting to know I actually have a friend, especially right now. "Thank you," I murmur humbled. "Let's get some breakfast and find a vehicle. I have somewhere I need to be."

H~~H

We take turns using the communal bath, and I lend him my summer shirt Renee made. He notices the swan and seems to understand the meaning of it.

We go downstairs, into the little café that serves breakfast here. I grab another paper and start to look for vehicles. Our server, this time a male, is efficient as he takes our orders.

Jasper says he knows exactly where we need to go to look for vehicles. Plus he wants to pick up his few things at the church.

After spending four hours looking at vehicles, I find a 1928 Ford Model–A truck. It isn't my style of vehicle, but the price is too good to pass up. I need to save every penny I have. I fill it up with petrol and then Jasper and I go to pick up his things. Afterwards, we return to my hotel. I need to change for the service.

I give Jasper a dollar and he leaves to get us sandwiches. When he comes back to the room he has food, drinks, and a map as hands me my change.

He finds where the cemetery is located on the map. He's coming with me for moral support and to help make sure I'm not spotted by the authorities.

When we arrive, two bodies are being driven in by an open flatbed truck. I know its Charlie and Renee. My hands grip the steering wheel and I start breathing heavily. This visually confirms for me that they are really gone.

Jasper, seeing the anxiety rolling through me, quietly suggests, "C'mon, you need to say your goodbyes."

I try to shake off the grief but know that it's futile. I get out of the vehicle and Jasper follows. We keep the truck in sight until it finally stops. I look around trying to find a good spot to observe the proceedings and find a large grouping of oaks to stand behind. It's almost 2:00 as we take our places hiding behind the trees.

From our vantage point, I'm able to see various people walking towards the site. When I see the brunette and shorter girl, I know instantly who they are. I whisper to Jasper, "That's them—the Swan sisters. Bella the brunette and Alice is the shorter one with raven hair."

Bella turns her head, looking at her surroundings and I get a view of her face. My heart does a combination of leaping at how beautiful she really is, then a dive at the grief that fills her eyes. Alice then looks our way and I hear Jasper inhale sharply and turn to look at him after they pass.

He rolls his shoulders and whispers, "They're gorgeous, especially Alice. I feel like she looked right at me with hope in those blue eyes. We are definitely going to help those girls."

I feel a calm settle within me with his words. I don't have to do this alone. I have someone who believes me and in me. He understands my need to redeem myself and repay a debt. I feel that now with a plan in hand, it will be done.

It is a small intimate group that attends the service. After it's over, I spy the investigators speaking with a tall, muscular, dark haired man, to the side. I know I need to leave, but I notice Bella leading the group my way. Jasper has already started toward the vehicle. I stand rooted in my spot, until I can see her face one last time. I'm not sure if she sees me, but I notice peace and hope have entered her large, beautiful, sorrow filled eyes. That's what I needed to see. Then I'm on the move to fulfill my promise.


	14. The Plan

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better. I can never say thank you enough. Her stories are based on The Hunger Games and are really good! Check them out! Seriously!**

T**hank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. I really appreciate your thoughts,critiques and the smiles and laughs you give me. To answer one frequently asked question for all of you. Yes, this is an E/B story and they do have an HEA. Please remember this is my first story and I guess I take the long road.**

**Chapter 13 **

**The Plan**

**January 1933 **

**Edward**

After leaving the cemetery, Jasper and I return to my hotel room. I'm debating whether or not to contact my family and Jasper is playing devil's advocate. He thinks my parents will understand my situation, but I still worry I may be a potential suspect regarding the Swan's murder and can't get my family involved.

I've confessed to Jasper how our families worked together at evading the tariffs. He's the first person I have ever truly trusted. He's in awe of how we worked out the shipment of the cotton and the purchase of the Aston Martin. He understands this cloak and dagger, high handedness is never what we wanted. It's just what the times demanded. The police can't know about the stolen money. I'm not sure I would even have witnesses who could place me in the bar, except for the two who stole it. It seems smarter to not contact my parents at this point in time.

However, my vow to repay the Swan sisters is not something I have doubts about. Jasper and I have various conversations on how we're going to do this.

Jasper tells me more about his plan. "In one of the pawn shops, here in Savannah, there is a very old brooch. It has a price tag of $25 on it, but it's worth at least a thousand— possibly more."

I just stare at him. He chuckles at my expression. "Tell me about it," I request with hope in my voice.

"Not right now. After we buy it I will. I don't want you to be looking at it for the identifying marks and you will. If we get into this business, you're going to need to learn about maker marks and to keep your face devoid of all expressions when something catches your eye. If a seller sees knowledge, they're not going to bargain with you. Or they may take the item off the market to find out more about it themselves and sell higher," he speaks as if he's a teacher, giving lessons in the science of human nature.

At first, I'm insulted why he won't tell me more upfront. But he's right. My curiosity would be written all over my face. I become more intrigued with this plan of his. Then I remember something else and it bothers me. He told me about an item of $20 to sell for $200. I raise my brow at him and he laughs out loud.

"Didn't take you long to remember part of our previous discussion, did it?" He continues his laughter.

I remain silent, staring at him with cocked brow, waiting to be enlightened.

He finally contains his mirth. "When you first told me your story, I believed you alright. But I was still unsure how determined you were to repay the Swan sisters. When I actually saw them, I thought maybe you were infatuated with the elder of the two. But when I saw the raw emotions that crossed your face; how desperately you wanted to be able to comfort them, the remorse you felt in thinking maybe you could have saved their parents had you been with them, and lastly the resolve to right a wrong, even though it isn't your fault. All those and more swarmed your features like bees around a hive—protecting their queen from a bear.

As I viewed Bella, I saw a determined, strong and stoic young woman. She now has a lot to take care of at such a young age, and she will fight to the end to accomplish those goals and desires. She has to. She's the eldest and it falls to her. I can see her as your equal.

Then I saw Alice—seeing another strong young woman. But she's lost, broken and empty inside. She's haunted somehow. But when her eyes caught mine, for the briefest of moments, I felt like I could be her lifeline and she blossomed. I knew at that moment, if you were serious, I would be all in to help.

So, with all that being said, I told you before there are thousands of valuable items to be bought for a song. One I've found and I was keeping it to myself until today. Now I'm going to share everything," he explains with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Being a business man, I can appreciate him having an ace in the hole. Who wouldn't with someone you just met? I nod my head, accepting his explanation.

"Let's go get something to eat. Then we can discuss how to proceed with this plan of yours," my optimism riding high.

H~~H

Over supper, we discuss where we'll buy the items he finds; where or to whom we can sell them to and how we will proceed from there.

Jasper explains how we really can't sell here in Savannah. We need a bigger city. We discuss cities from Atlanta, Georgia all the way to New York City but decide on Charleston, South Carolina. It's not bigger than Savannah, but it is the second largest city in South Carolina and growing rapidly according to Jasper. Plus, it has a port where wealthy European visitors arrive and leave from. I don't want to stay in this area with the potential of being found, however, I'm concerned to be so far away from the Swans.

We also decide that we'll open our own Pawn Shop. "Pawning began over 3000 years ago in China. Throughout ancient Roman and Greek times there are written accounts of pawning. In fact, in order to finance Columbus's voyages, Queen Isabella of Spain, pawned some of the crowned jewels," Jasper explains with a smile. I'm amazed an American knows this and I didn't.

"There's even a nursery rhyme 'Pop Goes the Weasel' that refers to pawning. A weasel is a tool used by shoemakers and to 'pop' was a slang term for pawning. Hence: 'That's the way the money goes... Pop goes the weasel,'" he laughs and I smile remembering the song I used to sing as a child.

"Most people recognize the red and white stripes that hang outside a shop that depicts a Barber. Well, Pawn Shops have their own sign as well.

Three balls, usually hanging down, became the popular symbol during the Roman times of 68 AD. A coin called the 'Silver Shekel' features three pomegranates, on a common stalk on one side, that a pawn broker gave to sellers," he finishes. Listening to Jasper talk is fascinating. He's a true historian.

The idea soon takes flight and we agree not to be a shop which takes in everything, as most do. Ours will be for only those high end items we can turn a nice profit on. Again, with the Charleston area being close to a port, many people who need money to leave the country will benefit us. We figure, when we find items museums will have interest in, we'll write letters to them. It's cheaper than the petrol we would use to get there and if they're interested, they can always send someone to us. But, we also agree to try not to take advantage of the unknowing seller. We will always pay at least a quarter of the value if we know it. Considering most shops don't care about the customer, but only want to insure a profit, we feel we're being generous—especially if it will take time to recoup our funds.

Finally, it's agreed, I will not go into the shops where Jasper wants to pick up our first purchases. I'm too eager to set this plan in motion and according to Jasper, I'm to 'refined looking' to be seen looking at used items. Once I understand about looking for maker marks and how to judge a piece will I start venturing out on my own.

H~~H

This morning I'm taking my biggest risk with Jasper. I drive Jasper to the first place he wants to visit and it's a Pawn Shop. I hand over $50. He looks me in the eye, knowing I'm putting my complete trust in him. "We're in this together. I won't let you down," he reiterates.

I simply nod. I have to have faith in him.

About twenty minutes later, as I'm trying to decide if I'm incredibly gullible or just stupid, he slips into the passenger seat. I sigh in relief, as he raises a brow at me.

"You have to remember, I'm new to this trusting people business after what just recently happened," I chuckle.

He nods his head and gives directions to our next stop. As he's leaving the truck the second time, for his next purchase he instructs, "While I'm gone, I want you to look at what's in the bag. Study it and when I get back, I'll quiz you about what you noticed."

"So begins the training," I laugh.

"You know it!" His features are as stern as his voice, and then he laughs—exposing his facade.

I continue to laugh; no question about it, Jasper's going to relish this teacher-student relationship. He may not have two nickels to rub together, but he's smart, and it would seem, enjoys imparting such knowledge to his willing pupil.

As he shuts the truck door, I open the heavy little bag. Inside is a 4" wide by 3" high box with an ornate lock. I pull it out and study the box. It's simple yet elegant in design. It looks to be made of ivory with gold trim, hinges and clasp for the part of the lock. Pushing apart the clasp gently, I open up it up. Inside nestled in blue velvet is an egg. _An egg?_ Not quite what I was expecting. I set the box on my lap and pull out the egg. It's very heavy and appears to be coated in white enamel. I stare at it for a few minutes then realize it can be opened. I struggle to open it, but when I finally twist it correctly; inside I find an egg yolk. Ah, but not the normal yolk—this one looks to be made of pure solid gold. Amazed, I pull the yolk out for closer examination and can hear something's inside it. It reminds me of nesting dolls I enjoyed playing with when I was younger. Twisting the yolk, I play a quick little guessing game of what's hidden inside. But I'd never guess inside is a golden hen with ruby eyes.

The detail is remarkable. I bring it closer to my eyes, for closer inspection, and hear another rattle. The hen has a hinge on the tail feathers which allows me to open it to reveal two additional surprises. The first is a miniature gold and diamond encrusted crown. Within the crown as the final surprise of a tiny ruby pendant suspended within.

I'm truly amazed, looking at this treasure, because there is no doubt in my mind—_it is a treasure_. The gold of the yolk in itself is easily worth the cost of the egg. I'm still examining all the various pieces, when I jump at the sound of the door opening. Looking up, Jasper has a slight look of disgust on his face. Mine turns red, as he chides me for not being more circumvent in protecting our "nest egg."

Then a huge smile appears on his face. "You know, I was never able to examine it fully. You can imagine if the broker knew about all you have there he wouldn't have a $20 price tag on it. Luckily, his assistant was working today. The owner would have questioned my coming in again to look at it. He will be pissed if he figures out it was me and he's possibly lost a treasure." He smirks. "I've helped him a few times in selling some items which made him plenty of money and fed me," he adds. "Come on, we need to leave this town," he says hurriedly as he places a violin case behind his seat.

I put all the pieces back together as I found them before placing them back in the box and then the bag. I hand it over to Jasper and he hands me my change. I just shove it in my back pocket without counting it, start the truck and ask, "Which way?"

H~~H

Jasper guides us north east and we travel quietly for a while. I'm still thinking about the egg, its treasures within, and the skilled craftsmanship it required in creating such an amazing piece. Once we're about twenty miles away from Savannah, my curiosity can't be contained, "Who made it?"

Jasper is now in professor mode. "I get to ask the questions first and yours will be answered soon," he retorts with a snicker. I nod in agreement. "Tell me what you observed—and be detailed."

I tell him all I can remember without looking at the egg. He nods as I list them. "So the enameled shell. What do you think the enamel covers?" He questions.

"I don't know, porcelain maybe. But I'm not sure. It's very solid but I don't think its pewter or iron," I hedge.

"Did you notice any marks?" He continues his questions.

"I think so, if you're asking about the K with a sideways oval and a slash through the middle of it."

"Excellent! It was the first thing I noticed when I originally saw it. Have you ever heard of a jeweler named Faberge?" He has a brilliant smile on his face. I vaguely remember hearing the name but for the life of me I can't remember why. I shrug my shoulders, knowing a history lesson is soon to follow.

"Peter Faberge became the Royal Jeweler to the Russian Court in 1885, for Czars Alexander III followed by Nicholas II. He was commissioned each year to create a unique Easter egg with a surprise inside. This is possibly one of his first based on the simple design of it. His makers mark changed over time, but his earlier one was how you described it. His name was Peter Carl Faberge and he went by Carl, and in Russian, the C in Carl is spelled with a K—hence the K in the mark.

I will lay you odds the enamel covers a gold base, same as the gold of the yolk. He never scrimped on quality or jewels; only the finest were chosen for his designs." He pauses, "You've heard of the Russian revolt in 1918, I'm sure." I nod fascinated with the story. "For various reasons, mostly his loyalty to Czar Nicholas, his business was confiscated. He and his family fled with what they could carry and finally ended up in Switzerland. Through various court intrigues and those who were 'light of fingers' many valuable items were removed before Lenin took power. I believe this is one of them," he finishes with a firm nod.

H~~H

We stop for a late lunch at a little café alongside the road to Charleston. Jasper is being cautious and doesn't discuss anything related to our business venture. He talks about American history. It's his favorite topic with dates thrown around about this war or that campaign. He's a walking, talking encyclopedia and he makes it interesting with his enthusiasm.

When we return to the truck and as I start driving, I ask about the violin case. His eyes again light up with excitement.

"That is not just an ordinary violin case. Inside is a world class violin. I originally went in to purchase the brooch, but this was a new arrival. For the same price my friend, we are now the proud owners of a genuine Antonio Stradivari," he breathes out with reverence.

Hearing what he just said, my foot on the accelerator starts shaking; then they both do, as the shaking now progresses up both legs and to my hands. This is something I know about. I've been around classical music all my life. I pull over to the side of the road. My brain is temporarily paralyzed while the adrenaline makes my body shake. I leap out of the truck and begin to run my hands over my face and through my hair as I start pacing around with my thoughts racing a mile a minute. If this is true, he has found one of the rarest of musical instruments ever made.

Who would ever sell something like this? They must not have known what it is. I want to look at it now. No, I don't want to look at it. If I touch it, I could break it.

Jasper comes out from the truck and watches my maniacal movements. He has a knowing smirk on his face, "Quite a rare find, don't you think?" he asks with a shaky laugh.

"How can you be so calm about this? Doesn't it excite you? It has to be a fake. You can't find such a rare and valuable instrument as a Stradivarius in Savannah! It's impossible!" My rapid fire thoughts exiting my mouth in one rush of breathe.

"You don't think I haven't been bursting at the seams wanting to let you know? It was all I could do to act normal when it caught my eye; while I was examining it, pretending like it was a simple violin. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Passing the money over, as if the purchase was a sacrifice to my wallet! Thespians around the world should applaud my performance!" He practically shouts.

I stop my pacing. He's just as anxious as I am. We're sitting on a promising gold mine.

"We need to get in the truck and find a place to stay tonight," Jasper reminds me quietly.

I pull myself out of the maelstrom of my mind. Exhale heavily, look at Jasper, nod and get back in the truck.

Once we're back on the road, Jasper sighs, "We're going to have to take it slowly with the violin, you know. We can't just try to find a buyer. It needs to be researched for any previous owners for history or to find out if it was stolen. That's going to take some time," finishing his thoughts.

I hadn't thought of the idea of if being stolen. Great, I'm wanted for questioning in Georgia and now crossing into another state with potentially stolen merchandise. The bright colors of my rainbow abruptly fade to gray. Suddenly, I'm wishing Jasper had just bought the damn brooch. I glance at Jasper who's been watching me this whole time and I snarl my lip at him.

He understands the look and shrugs his shoulders, "It's better knowing both sides of the coin then running blind into a wall," he quips. It sounds to me like mixed metaphors, but it made sense all the same. I just shake my head at him.

H~~H

Once we reach Charleston we both scan the city looking for a room in a safe area but not too expensive. Once we find a hotel with a vacancy, we grab our bags and head to the front desk. I ask the young woman behind the counter if there are any rooms with double beds, keeping my voice low trying to not let her hear my accent. Her head snaps up, looking into my eyes and then becomes still with a blush coloring her cheeks.

Jasper chuckles and her eyes move to him. She gasps slightly and becomes a beacon for sun worshippers. Lowering her eyes to the registration information she murmurs, "Yeah."

I fill out the form using the Masen name. After paying, she hands over the key and gives directions to our room, never raising her head. On the way to our room, Jasper makes the comment, "Bet we'll see at least two women behind the counter tomorrow."

I know what he means, and decide right then and there, as soon as we find where we'll open shop, we'll need to find a flat. I don't want to encourage any female into thinking I'm interested. My mind needs to be solely focused on my goal of repaying the Swan sisters. I just hope, when we meet they won't hold me responsible for Charlie and Renee's death. I do it enough to myself.

H~~H

The next morning we find a couple of newspapers and a café. While we eat, we both peruse the papers—Jasper searching for anything regarding a potentially stolen violin and other items to buy, as I look through the real estate section.

So many properties are for sale or rent but what catches my eye is the rental of a small closed bank. It's described as centrally located, but what interests me the most is a usable walk-in vault. To say I'm skittish about my money or the valuable belongings we're currently carrying being stolen is an understatement.

After breakfast we buy a map of the area and start looking at potential buildings for rent. But our first stop is the bank, and we look no further.

The owner happens to be there, washing the name of the bank off from one of the large window fronts. He welcomes us into the small public area that's about 15' x 15'. From the public area, facing the back is a counter that stretches wall to wall a little over waist high. Set on top 12' of the counter space to the ceiling, is a wall of thick glass with three cut out windows where the tellers would have been stationed behind it. The other three foot counter section lifts up on hinges used as a walkway which leads into the back office area and a door to the teller's station.

There is another large room about the size of the public area, which may have been used as an employee break room or storage, with a door leading to a bathroom.

Behind the back wall of the teller station is the vault. The thick door is open to reveal a space of about five feet in depth and six feet wide. One wall has safety deposit boxes of various sizes and opposite of them is a waist high table probably used by the customers to sort through their boxes. I open one of the boxes and notice two keys inside. Both keys number the corresponding box—I assume one for the bank and one for the owner of the box.

As I check out the vault, Jasper inquires about the rent. I overhear the owner telling Jasper, he's asking $45 a week. He plays salesman, spouting how it's a prime location, being centrally located with constant foot traffic. As he rambles on, my mind is busy calculating the space here in the back. There is enough room here to put up bunk beds on one wall, hell, sleep on the floor if need be. It would save us money on a flat or hotel.

I look around the space one more time. I glance at Jasper, whose eyes are taking in the space as I did, and then fall back to mine. I can read the same thoughts in his eyes that I have. With a slight nod of his head, I turn to the owner. "How about this, we'll pay $160 per month and sign a year-long lease?" I bargain.

He looks around the space, then Jasper and me countering, "I'll take $175 a month for a year lease."

I smile at him; he smiles back. "$170 per month with a six month contract, with the option to extend it another six months," I counter back.

He wasn't expecting this change in the bargaining. If we should decide to leave after six months, who knew how quickly he could rent it again.

It had already been vacant for almost a year, as he had told us earlier.

He looks at me long and hard, then to Jasper whose expression would appear bored to someone who doesn't know him, then back to me. With a sigh and a shrug of a shoulder he relents, "I'll take the $160 with the year-long lease." He puts out his hand and we shake, then he and Jasper shake.

"I'll have the contract ready in a couple hours if you want to come back around 3:00 pm today and I expect a full month's rent paid in advance," he states.

"We'll be here, but with the prorated amount, since we're already partly into the month. February 1st you will receive the first full month rent. The contract will officially start then," I reply.

Once again he looks at me hard, but then nods his head in agreement. We shake hands one last time as Jasper and I leave our new place of business and residence.

The first thing Jasper says as we get into the truck is, "We're going to need to find beds, pillows, towels—maybe some sheets but certainly blankets if we don't find the beds—and some items that we can quickly turn over for cash."

It's remarkable how we seem to be of the same mind set. I have never known someone like him before. His compassion and willingness to help me, when I was feeling so scared and alone, is new and heartwarming. It's comforting to have this kind of ease of communication and friendship. I now firmly believe my vow will be fulfilled.


	15. Fires and Hell Freezes Over

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better. I can never say thank you enough. Her stories are based on The Hunger Games and are really good! Check them out! Seriously!**

T**hank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. I hope you enjoy this extra posting. Trying to get you to E/B quicker. :)**

**Chapter 14 **

**Fires and Hell Freezes Over**

**Spring to Autumn - 1933 **

**Bella**

It's early springtime and a little over three months since we laid Charlie and Renee to rest. Officer Call and Detective Uley have been by several times letting us know that they're still working on the case and asking random questions. Some I can answer and others I can't.

The main question asked is if we've heard from Mr. Edward Cullen? We haven't, but still store his car in the Carriage House. At one point, the detective looks through every nook and cranny trying to find any evidence, but as far as I know he came up empty.

The question I want to ask, but can't, is where is the money from the sale of last year's cotton and peanuts? Without those profits, we'll be tight on funds for this year's growing season.

Alice continues to have nightmares every night and every night I go into her room, calm her down and fall asleep in her bed. Every day she gets up, dresses, cooks, eats, does chores around the house and garden—but she still won't speak. Not a word. I've tried to ask her about her dreams but she'll grab onto her throat like she wants to scream, shakes her head and leaves the room. It seems when I mention them to her, they haunt her in the daytime. I've stopped asking and hope someday she'll be able tell me of them. I miss my Alice desperately.

Seth and Leah are permanently residing in the Brandon home. I feel better knowing someone is living there and putting it to use. Rosalie is now living with us and has the guest room downstairs.

Rosalie told us that she had caught Royce and Lauren numerous times in compromising positions, including the day of her wedding and she refused to share the marital bed. The day after Christmas, Royce demanded his husbandly rights and had ordered Rosalie to his room. There was no way Rosalie was doing any such thing, so she locked the door to her room and didn't budge at his threats of breaking down the door or doing bodily injury. Had it been the case, she was ready to leave through the bedroom window.

While he was still in the house, she packed a few of her clothes in a carpetbag. She knew her parents wouldn't help her. Her father's position at the bank was precarious as it was in these trying times. She didn't want to come to us fearing Royce would arrive here sooner or later. _She feared correctly._

Once he left for work, after more threats for her to be ready to assume her role as his wife when he returned home, did she leave the safety of her room. Lauren was in the kitchen and as soon as Rosalie entered, Lauren shot her a dirty look and also left. Grabbing a sack, Rosalie put in a few rolls, some sliced ham and a chunk of cheese all wrapped up in wax paper.

She then went into Royce's office and found a locked drawer that held money. She pried it open and counted out $200. Putting the money in a purse that hung across her body, she put on her heaviest coat and with her two small bags in hand left the house of Royce King for good.

She took the train to Atlanta, where she found a cheap but clean hotel, registered as 'Bella Swan,' she said she always loved my name, and proceeded to find a lawyer to start the proceedings to gain a divorce. She didn't dare use one in Savannah, knowing too many people were afraid of the King family and would immediately notify them of what she was up to.

It took some time, since it was the holiday season, but finally the paperwork was complete and filed. She listed her address as a post office box in Atlanta. Once she knew the date Royce would be served his papers for the dissolution of the marriage, she headed back here, knowing Royce would scour Atlanta looking for her. Which we heard he had! He was gone for well over a month, coming back angrier than ever from what Leah heard. Jessica was gushing with gossip as she told Leah about a certain visit Royce had paid her father.

Royce had gone to Mr. Stanley's home, since he's the best lawyer in the area, and asked to put a stop to the divorce proceedings. Mr. Stanley asked Royce to come into his office. He then asked Royce the reason stated for the dissolution. Royce pulled out the paperwork and read, "This marriage has not been consummated. I would rather be a nun."

Laughing out loud, for all in the household to hear, Mr. Stanley questioned, "Is it true?"

Furious, Royce yelled at him, "It doesn't matter if it's true or not. I don't want a divorce."

Mr. Stanley finally gaining control of his mirth, "If it's true, then there is nothing you can do. She seems to not want to fulfill her wifely duties and as such, she can choose to become a nun."

Royce yanked open the office door, only to have Jessica fall against the frame having heard every word spoken. Royce growled at her and left.

Sometimes Jessica has worth.

"Do you want to become a nun?" I ask her after Leah told us the story, already knowing the answer.

She looks at Emmett briefly with love burning brightly in her eyes and quietly answers, "No."

H~~H

Alice and I decide we won't be attending school for the time being. Well, I decide and tell Alice of my plan and she merely agrees with a nod. I ask her if she is interested in returning, but she shakes her head, no, vigorously. I meet the high school counselor, who understands our situation, but convinces me to do home schooling since Alice and I only need three classes to pass to graduate. Leah and Seth also opt for home schooling.

An adult has to review our work, so Mrs. Cope writes a letter, stating that she will review our work before it's handed in and will insure there will be no collusion on the assignments.

Mrs. Cope is a smart, articulate woman who has had no formal education, but she can read and write as if she were a literary professor. When it's settled, Leah makes the weekly trips to school, getting our new assignments and hand in the completed ones.

H~~H

With Mr. McCarty and Emmett's help, we are determined to raise the crops in a business as usual manner. The only thing we change is the usual hiring of the twenty extra men—which we would normally do at this time. Instead we opt for half the help.

"I'll work for room and board, for myself and Leah. It's the same I would've received from Mister Black," Seth offers. I don't except his terms and we come to a mutual agreement on pay. Leah and I help in the fields while Rosalie, Alice and Mrs. Cope tend to the animals, family garden, cooking and cleaning.

Rosalie enjoys the freedoms she has here on the Plantation. A warm healthy glow can now be seen on her face. Gone is the Snow Queen. She never felt at home with Royce or Lauren for that matter. Her mother had constantly criticized her when she visited for not taking her proper place in high society as was due her station.

The only time she hides is when we have a visitor. With all the gossip mongers you never know when word might reach Royce of her presence here. Today is one of those days. Jacob has taken it upon himself to be our mail delivery man. He understands that I don't want to go into town and be accosted by the morbid curiosity seekers about any old or new details of my parent's case. It's not that I can't talk about it, I can, but I need to move on and continue the work that my family started so many years ago. In other words, "_Time moves on, you need to make a living, and not waste away with the dead,_" as Charlie would say.

I see Jacob drive up from the fields and run to intercept him before he gets to the door, just in case Rosalie is nearby. Jacob, with a big grin on his face, misinterprets my jog as being happy to see him.

"Hey Bella, how are you?" he says in greeting.

"Good and you?" I return, holding out my hand to accept the mail.

"Great now that I've seen you," he says cheekily.

I roll my eyes at him as he hands me the mail, letting his hand slide over mine. His touch sends cold chills up my spine and I shiver from the eerie feeling that always occurs.

He chuckles, as if he's thinking I enjoy his touch. I literally have to shake myself to stop the icy crawl.

"Thanks for bringing the mail, Jacob. You know I can send someone else to pick it up. I don't want you going out of your way," I try again to dissuade him from this task.

"You know it's no trouble Bella, when else do I get to see you?" he asks affronted. "Besides, I pass your turnoff to get to my place so, it's no big deal."

"Fine, I'm just letting you know that you are under no obligation, that's all." Then I turn towards the house, waving over my shoulder, "Have a nice day, Jacob," dismissing him.

As I climb up the stairs, I hear a grumbled, "You to Bella," then the sound of the door being shut on his truck, the engine starting up and the crunch of tires on the graveled road. The chills finally subside.

Rosalie has been at the window watching the interaction and meets me at the door. "You know he has it bad for you, don't you?"

I look at her and shiver again, "No, I don't think he does. I think Mister Black has ingrained it into his head that he thinks he does. But, it really doesn't matter because if worse comes to worst, I'll take a page out the Rosalie King manual and claim I would rather be a nun." I snipe at her.

"Did you know that I also petitioned the courts to have my name reverted back to Rosalie Hale?" she smiles at me. I shake my head.

She gets a devilish twinkle in her eye, "Just want you to be reading from the right manual." We both burst into giggles. It feels so good.

H~~H

Time moves by rapidly and the cotton only has a little more time of growth left before the harvesting can begin. Emmett, Seth and I are out in the fields by the Brandon section talking about a buyer. I confess to them, that I need to sort through Charlie's papers in his office and find correspondence to the Cullen's.

In the back of my mind, I wonder why I haven't heard from them. Mrs. Cullen wrote to Renee at least every other month and surely they would be curious about Edward Cullen's visit. But, maybe Edward had some falling out with my parents and it's the reason he wasn't with them.

Maybe he returned home and we've been excommunicated from further business dealings.

I need to go through Charlie's desk now. With that thought in my mind, I turn and spot Jacob standing not far from us. "Oh, hey Jacob, how are you?" my engrained politeness taking over.

"Good Bella, Mr. McCarty said you were out here. I didn't realize you were busy. Hey Seth, Emmett," he inclines his head towards the two. Seth and Emmett simply incline their heads in return. Jacob continues, "I brought your mail, I didn't feel comfortable leaving it with Mr. McCarty," he hands me the mail—his excuse for coming to find me.

I'm not stupid. I know he wants to spend more time with me. But since last Christmas's argument with Mister Black and the chills I get around him, I'm hoping after all these months he will get the hint, sooner than later, that I'm not interested.

"Thank you, Jacob. But rest assure, you can leave the mail with anyone here. I have no problem with that. If you'll excuse me I need to check on something," I say as I turn away.

Leah drives up to the front of the Brandon house right at that moment and shouts for me to come over. I jog over to her and she's holding a flat package in her hand. She hands me the package with my name on it as I shift the mail to hold both. Seth and Emmett approach from behind and I notice that Jacob is not with them. Good, hint taken. I hope!

Leah says excitedly, "Open it."

As I un-wrap it, I look at all three of them and see smiles on their faces. With the paper off, I turn it over and there, with a beautiful frame surrounding it, is my diploma. Seth, Leah, Alice and I didn't attend our graduation ceremony; we were too busy and besides since none of our parents were there to see it, we didn't see the point. With my eyes misting and my throat closing, I look at Leah and hug her hard.

"Thank you," I finally breathe out.

"Seth and I didn't want Alice and your graduation day to go by unnoticed," she softly whispers.

"But we didn't do anything for you!" I sigh.

"You have done more than you'll ever know for Seth and me. We'll never be able to repay you or Alice back for your generosity. We love you both."

"We love you both too. I'm honored to have such friends."

I release my hold on her and turn to Seth with a dopey grin on my face and hug him also, "Thank you, so much for this."

Seth picks me up in a big bear of a hug and spins around. "Glad you like it."

I start laughing and then beg him to put me down. When he finally does, I look at all of them smiling at me and my heart swells with joy. "You know, we need to celebrate. We need to drink a toast to no more schooling."

Everyone laughs as we make our way to the back of the house. We wash up and remove our boots and I tell Mrs. Cope and Rosalie that we will be having a graduation celebration this evening. I enter Charlie's study and grab the bottle of whiskey from the bottom drawer of his desk. One drink won't hurt us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Cullen name on an envelope in the drawer that held the bottle. I pull it out and lay it on top of the desk.

Good, I think to myself. I'll write him first thing in the morning and we'll see where we go from there. I leave the office shutting the door behind me.

H~~H

We have a great time with our little impromptu gradation party. Alice also receives a framed diploma which brings a brief flicker of happiness to her eyes. It's the first time in a while that she has even smiled. I'm hoping that this could be a turning point for her.

We all toast to graduation including our honorary graduates of Mrs. Cope and Mr. McCarty. We talk about some memorable times and hopes for the future. Well—everyone except Alice.

The evening comes to a close. We all say our good nights and Alice and I walk up the stairs to our rooms. I get ready for bed—doing the same nightly ritual of a quick bath, rubbing on lotion and changing into night clothes. Brushing my teeth, then brushing my hair and putting it in a braid. I'm so tired, I muse, I could do this in my sleep. Pulling back the top covers, I lie down and don't even remember falling asleep.

I swear, I wasn't sleeping for more than two minutes when I hear a blood curdling scream; when I hear it again, I sit straight up, bolt out of bed running towards Alice's room. A cold chill runs down my spine as I sprint through the sitting room, and I think I see movement out of the corner of my eye, but Alice screams again, so I ignore it. She hasn't been this bad since the first night, eight months ago, I think to myself.

Once I'm in her room, I notice immediately something is very different. I smell smoke but it's not in here. I jump on Alice's bed worrying about what's burning and wanting to get us out of the house.

Alice starts to scream again, but I shake her hard, yelling, "Alice, you need to wake up now. I smell smoke. You need to wake up now!"

She finally hears me and responds. "We need to go down stairs now, all right?" She starts moving and we get off the bed and head for her door.

The smoke gets stronger as we reach the stairs. We both lift our night shifts up to cover our mouths.

At the bottom, in front of Rosalie's room, I yell, "Rosalie, Wake up," while pounding on her door. I'm surprised when Emmett comes out of her room in his bed clothes with Rosalie right behind him in hers.

Emmett then smells the smoke instantly and tracks it down to the office. He yells, "Start getting buckets of water ready and make sure Mrs. Cope is awake. Alice, you need to ring the bell three times, and then do it again!"

We have a bell on the veranda which is used for various things. One ring is for supper, two is someone has arrived or Charlie was needed at the house, three is for fire. Alice is out the front door in a flash.

I run into the kitchen and there is Mrs. Cope with Mr. McCarty coming out of her room. Confusion is hitting me on all sides. I shake my head as Mrs. Cope starts filling up buckets having heard the yelling, no doubt.

"Where's the smoke is coming from?" Mr. McCarty asks hurriedly.

"The office," I answer numbly.

He turns and quickly runs out the back door.

Mrs. Cope hands me a half filled bucket of water and with my heart pounding, I run it back as fast as I can to Emmett. He slowly opens the office door. Thick black smoke billows out. He grabs the bucket from me, throws open the door wide and splashes the water into the office just as flames start to come at him. Rosalie is right behind me with another bucket and I take mine from Emmett and run back to the kitchen. Seth comes running through the front door and catches the next bucket from Mrs. Cope. She turns and is right behind me.

When Leah arrives we have the makings of a water brigade. I see some of the other workers arriving to help. After about twenty minutes I hear, "Stop!" I don't know who yells it but I drop my bucket and run quickly back to the office. Mr. McCarty is standing inside the office by the window with a hose in his hand. He's covered in soot as the smoke and ash still swirls around him. The fire was fought from two fronts.

Emmett starts to enter the room but Mr. McCarty holds up his hand to stay him. I look into the office from around Emmett and I see total destruction. I'm grateful it's only contained to this one room but saddened by the loss of what I considered Charlie's office. His desk is a smoldering piece of charred wood.

In a daze, I watch as Mr. McCarty kicks at various objects, I imagine seeing if anything more will flare up. He's thorough in his quest to insure the fire is out but he's also coughing badly.

Alice comes up behind me and I turn to her. "You saved us Alice; you know that don't you? If it weren't for you, it could have been so much worse," I whisper as I hug her to me.

She squeezes me tighter. "You saw fire in your dream, didn't you?" I ask softly for her alone to hear. I feel her tears on the bare skin of my shoulder and night shift. She nods her head against me. I just hold on to her as if she's my lifeline. She is my lifeline. She's all I have left of my own family. She may not talk, but her presence speaks volumes.

We let go of each other eventually and I turn back to gaze at the burnt out room. Mr. McCarty has slipped out the window with the hose left hanging by the window. I view the destruction and then it dawns on me like a slap to my face; the money for the household, it was in one of the desk drawers. The records for the plantation I refer to often must now be gone also. But the one little thing, an envelope I had put on top of the desk, just a few short hours ago, with the hope that it would save us is now ash. All communication with Mr. Cullen is now gone.

I sway a bit as the enormity of the situation hits me. I lean against the doorjamb for the support it gives my body, but not my mind. What are we going to do now?

Emmett sees the dismay which must be clearly etched on my face. "It'll be okay Bella. The fire was contained to just this room. Everyone's safe. We can clean this up in no time," he tries to sooth me.

"Emmett, the only way I knew how to get in touch with the Cullen's was in this room. It's now gone, along with money for the household which was kept in one of the desk drawers. It's all gone," I barely choke out my reply.

He pales when he hears my answer. Now he understands the magnitude of what's at stake. All of us are in jeopardy, due to this fire, contained in this one room.

Emmett closes the door, trying to alleviate the smell of smoke from permeating further into the house. We all end up in the parlor. Mr. McCarty comes in with a wet towel wiping the soot from his face and arms while coughing horribly. Mrs. Cope is hovering beside him, asking if there is anything he needs. He gives her a small smile but shakes his head no. Why haven't I noticed their interaction before? I have no problem with them sharing time together. They're adults of about the same age. I just don't understand how I missed it.

And now that I think about it, I turn my gaze to look at Rosalie and Emmett. No wonder she's been glowing. I assumed it was attributed to her divorce being almost finalized. What else have I been missing?

Our one night for celebration has ended in a cloud of smoke.

H~~H

A courier arrives with a special delivery package from Atlanta for Miss Rosalie Hale. It's from the office of one, Mr. Banner, Attorney at Law.

Written on letterhead paper, it states her divorce had been granted and her name change accepted. On a separate sheet is a handwritten note from Mr. Banner. It seems that Royce had given Mr. Banner's name to Mr. and Mrs. Hale. They journeyed to Atlanta to try to find Rosalie and arrived at his office. During their visit, they tried to find out where Rosalie was staying, stop the divorce by stating that Rosalie was not mentally stable and if she continued with the proceedings she would be disowned.

Rosalie had already discussed this possibility with Mr. Banner, explaining she was a pawn in ensuring her father kept his job and her mother a higher seat in the Social Circle. He ended his note by saying there was an envelope attached which contained her copies of the divorce papers and a letter from her parents. He even strongly advised her not to open said letter from such hostile and bitter people.

The letter from her parents, written a month earlier, was vitriolic and venomous. It seems, Royce threatened Mr. Hale with the loss of his position at the bank if Rosalie continued with the divorce. It was followed with all they had ever done for her and her selfish nature. Every rude name was thrown at her, including how they would spit on her grave and ending with if they ever see her again 'it will be as if you never existed'. With tears in her eyes; Rosalie stands with resolve, walks to the fireplace, lights a match and burns the letter.

She's better off without them but I won't speak these thoughts. Instead, I hug her. "You will always have a home here, Rosalie, we love you.

You know this right?" I need her to understand how we feel.

"I know," she murmurs.

Rosalie turns out of my arms and sees Emmett. They both stare at each other and you can see the love they share. As if sensing my gaze, they both turn and blush when they catch my eye. Somehow, I missed the reconnection these two shared. When did I become so blind to the happenings in my own home? Maybe it was when Alice became mute. _She doesn't speak and I don't see._

H~~H

I'm looking through the debris of the office, sorting through the ashes, hoping to find anything salvageable. Unfortunately, there isn't much and nothing with reference to Mr. Cullen.

Mr. McCarty has taken a sever cough since the fire and has become feverish. He'd inhaled a lot of smoke. Everyone has asked him to rest but he refuses. In most men, I would think it has to do with pride and not wanting to appear weak. In Mr. McCarty, I see a man who feels responsible for not only Emmett, but to all of us as a surrogate father.

We've had various conversations as to how to proceed with finding a buyer. He regrettably has never worked on the selling end of the crops. He has only overseen up to getting it ready to ship.

We talk about the fire. His belief is the Blacks are responsible for it. The window was open to the office, which made it an easy access to get in, start the fire and get out. There's nothing in the office that would combust on its own.

Most of what he says makes sense, but I can't fathom a reason for the Blacks to start the fire. He points out that Mister Black wants Jacob and me to marry and combine the lands. I argue he would rather have the Plantation make a profit and combine the lands, than unite with a poor property.

But his suspicions have taken root in the back of my mind. Did Jacob overhear our conversation in the fields when I spoke of contacting Mr. Cullen? Why would Mister Black care anymore about Mr. Cullen after all this time when he found another buyer and is doing well? What could Mister Black gain from our loss, if I can't find a buyer? Why would he create a fire, if he wanted marriage between Jacob and me?

Someday I do hope to marry, but not to Jacob Black. Since the death of my parents and the need for the continuation of the running of the plantation, I haven't the time or energy for such girlish indulgencies. I want love—or the idea of love like my parents had—but I'm needed by Alice, my makeshift family and the land. They come first. Too many thoughts trouble my mind.

What I need to do—is find a buyer, _fast_.

H~~H

I speak with Mr. Mallory, but he already has contracts with another cotton farmers, made earlier in the year, and can't afford to purchase more.

He only has a minor contract with the government and though he is selling to a few new companies, it still isn't in his power to help me. He suggests contacting a few mills in Atlanta and gives me their information.

Somehow, word gets to Jacob that I'm desperate to sell our crop. Whether it was Mr. Mallory, who told his family or directly to Lauren, who could give the radio a race for broadcasting news, I'm not sure. All I do know is, Jacob appears at the plantation one evening after supper. With all of us seated around the veranda, he paces back and forth intoning all the reasons I should see his father and ask for help.

After he's through, I only say, "I'll think about it."

"That's great Bella, just great. I want you to be a success. You and Alice deserve this. We'll set the time for tomorrow noon. Come then and I'll make sure my dad is cordial and he'll help. I'm sure of it," he states proudly, as if he has somehow brokered a deal to end the depression or negotiated world peace.

After he leaves, we discuss what he said. Seth and Leah just shake their heads, both of the opinion Billy Black never helps unless there's something in it for him. I have a feeling they're right. I'm anxious and if there's a catch, I still have a chance to sell in Atlanta. But maybe this will save us a trip. _I'm not holding my breath._

Emmett and Seth both insist they go with me, but I'm worried. Since, Mister Black, kicked Seth and Leah out of house and home on Christmas day, I don't want Seth to be there for his sake. Emmett is different. The only one who gets angry with Emmett is Jacob. But Jacob noticed the closeness of Emmett and Rosalie when he was last here and he seems less agitated now with Emmett.

H~~H

At exactly noon, dressed in one of my best dresses, I nervously knock on the front door of Mister Black. We're shown into Mister Black's study by a stuffy uniformed butler. His study is what I would expect to see in a house of royalty with all the gold gilded chairs, desk and fixtures.

How pretentious could one man be? Did he have jewels imbedded in the frames of his doors and window frames in his room? Scratch that question; _I really don't want to know!_

Jacob is sitting in a chair to the right side of Mister Black, who is seated behind his desk, watching me as I take in the appearance of the room. A small smile lights his face. "I can tell you're impressed, Isabella. I forgot you've never been here before," proud of his possessions.

I'm not impressed, but I can't say it, instead I agree with him, "No, Mister Black. I've never been here before." I think the 'no' covered both thoughts though.

Mister Black, realizing I'm not going to comment further on the room, moves the conversation forward. "Jacob tells me you don't have a buyer for your cotton. He has been most insistent for me to pull some strings. I've thought about it and I do think I can help you," he states, with a benevolent smirk on his face. Somehow it doesn't ring true, so instead of jumping in and thanking him right away, I remain silent, waiting to see if there is more.

Jacob looks pleased with himself and that this is going so well.

Since I haven't voiced any kind of response, Mister Black proceeds with _his_ idea of helping. "You understand business is business, right Isabella? I'm sure Charlie would have given many lessons on it."

Tilting my head, trying to figure out which direction this is going, I continue to remain silent.

"As you know, there can be a price to pay in a business transaction or there can be benefits for both parties involved. My proposal would be the latter of the two types of agreement," he states, as if he was imparting great wisdom for my lowly brain to understand. Suddenly, Jacob doesn't look so pleased.

Again, I wait him out. I have a feeling I'm not going to like what he's about to say. I steel myself for what I'm positive is soon to be revealed.

He raises his hands, which have been resting on his desk, up together with fingertips tapping some quiet taboo rhythm, as he eyes me like I'm a horse for sale. He views my hair, my face, chest and waist. From the corner of my eye, I can see Emmett is getting agitated. Jacob is squirming in his chair. I remain still, not showing him how insulted I am with his open perusal.

Mister Black then brings his hands together, in true genuflection style, under his chin as he begins again. "Isabella, I can get you a small fortune for your cotton. Perhaps more than Charlie would have made." He pauses for great effect, looking for any reaction from me. I don't move a muscle.

At this point, I know he's becoming frustrated, hoping for instant gratitude from me, even though he hasn't completed his proposal.

He lets out an annoyed huff, brings his hands down on the desk with a slap. Jacob jumps and still I don't move a muscle, not even a twitch.

"You know what I want Isabella. If I were younger, I would offer for you myself, but seeing as I'm not, I will require a union between you and Jacob," he insists yet again.

Emmett stands statue still, while Jacob stands up from his chair, knocking it over. "Dad, we discussed this. I'm not going to force her to marry me. Forcing Bella to do something she doesn't want to do, will only lead to a divorce. I want her happy and safe, not this," he shouts.

I watch Jacob rage at Mister Black, still not flinching, my face an expressionless mask. He holds his hand up to Jacob and it's enough to stop his anger. Mister Black looks at my blank features and continues. "I have thought of the potential for divorce and have an agreement already written up. Should Isabella, decide she no longer wants marriage to you, she will forfeit her home and land. It will keep her married to you, I'm quite certain," he replies with elated smugness.

I can tell, this thought clearly appeals to Jacob for a moment, and then he shakes his head, no. "Bella, I'm sorry, I didn't ask for this," he sighs, pleading for me to believe him.

Mister Black looks at Jacob with disgust. "No, you didn't ask for this, but you knew I would request it. You have been in love with her since you were knee high. I've wanted to combine the properties for almost as long. We'd be beyond the richest property in this area. High society will look up to us. What more can you want? It's a perfect outcome for both properties," finishing his age old fantasy.

He opens the top drawer of his desk, pulls out several documents and pushes them in front of me, then uncaps a pen. "I took the liberty to mark all the areas you need to sign, Isabella. You don't have read it—I've already explained what's contained in it." He looks up at my emotionless features, "You're a smart girl Isabella; you do know how to raise cotton, but your Plantation will go belly up with no buyers and you will have nothing left. I will only give you this one chance. Otherwise, I will simply wait for you to go bankrupt, then purchase your land for nothing," he happily continues, "It really won't be long either way." He stares at me, challenging me, to deny his offer.

I glance at Emmett, whose mask matches mine and gives nothing away. When I look at Jacob, he seems subdued, but at the same time hopeful.

Finally, I return my gaze to Mister Black. There are so many things I want to say; names to call him, curses to heap upon his black hearted soul and vows for revenge.

I raise myself to my full height, then bend, while reaching over and grab the pen. On the first page, where my signature is required, I write in bold letters, WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER! I recap the pen, stand back up, hand it to Mister Black, and march with my head held high out of his study with Emmett on my heels. Mister Black must have read my little note, because we can hear him yelling, as he calls me the names, with the curses and vows that I never spoke out loud.

While we're driving back to our home, Emmett starts to speak, but I stay him with my hand. "Emmett, I never want to discuss what happened there again. You may disagree with me but I refuse to be bartered," I'm standing firm with my conviction.

"Bella, I have never been more proud of someone as I am of you. You didn't beg, cry or scream like some little girl. You didn't let anyone know what you were thinking—_even me_. You stood your ground and I'm in awe. It was so impressive," Emmett stammers out. Then a silly smirk graces his mouth. "I would much rather go down with you, then be rescued on the ship you were offered."

This is exactly what I needed to hear. The stress of the meeting had taken its toll on me both physically and mentally. But his crazy little comment causes me to laugh, loud and long. It's cathartic.

H~~H

Two days later, Emmett and I make the trip to Atlanta by train, contacting several potential buyers until one finally makes an offer. It's far below what the Cullen's paid but desperate times call for desperate measures. I need whatever money can be made to hopefully see us through the coming year. With the profits of last year's sale to the Cullen's missing, we could be in dire straits.

H~~H

We sell as much as we can of our corn and peanuts at the local farmers markets, along with canned items from our garden. Rose and Emmett are at one market, while Seth, Leah and I sell at another. Alice doesn't attend these outings. She still can't cope with being around people yet.

We've just started setting up our table when Mike Newton arrives. His conversation starts with Seth and Leah, who answer his questions regarding our wares. He turns to me and gives his belated condolences and offers to help in any way. I simply hold up a bucket full of peanuts, with the intent for him to purchase, but he says his father doesn't need any more and moves on. _So much for his offer to help!_

I turn back to our table and spot Jessica coming our way. Jessica has questions about our jams, and Leah explains how Rosalie and Alice made it themselves. Jessica, with an evil look in her eyes, spies another woman who is ready to purchase a jar from Seth, leans over to Leah, as if to speak confidentially. "Is Alice still crazy? Do you think she may have poisoned the jam?" she speaks loudly enough for people to hear from ten feet away.

"Jessica! You have no right to speak of Alice that why! You know nothing of what she has been through. How dare you insinuate such a thing?" Shock clearly registering in my voice. How can she say such horrid things? Is this because of Mike Newton? _This is ridiculous!_

The woman who was ready to purchase the jam, sets it back down on the table.

"Jessica, apologize right this instant for those uncalled for remarks," I demand, firmly holding onto my temper.

"Why should I apologize? How would I know if she has or hasn't poisoned the jam?" Jessica smirks.

"Because you're scaring off our customers with your lies," I stare her straight in the eye.

"You know what they say, 'Buyer beware,'" she shrugs her shoulders, walking away.

Seth tries to ease the woman fears by explaining how Jessica has always been jealous of me and there's nothing wrong with the jam, but it's too late. The damage has already been done; so we load up our unsold produce and canned items and call it a day. We can see the rumor mill turning full up on high. I know we can't return here. _Damn Jessica Stanley and Mike Newton!_

H~~H

Mr. McCarty has taken to bed with pneumonia. Mrs. Cope tries everything in her vast medicine and medicinal pantry—nothing helps. We call a doctor in, but he has nothing more to offer. Mrs. Cope knows more about curing illness than he does.

But it isn't enough. Mr. McCarty succumbs to the illness soon after the doctor's visit. It's frightening to think that if his suspensions are correct—that the fire was intentionally started—then murder has also been committed, because in fighting that fire, Mr. McCarty has died. Emmett is devastated, as well as the rest of us.

I go to the safe and pull money from it and with Alice beside me. I express to Emmett, how he and Mr. McCarty are family and we'd like him to be buried in our family plot. Emmett is grateful for the gesture.

This time, Emmett and I meet with the director of the cemetery. After making the necessary arrangements and setting the date for the next day, we make our way home. Emmett's driving, as it gives him something to concentrate on other than his father. My mind wanders as I realize everyone living under my roof is now parentless. Rosalie, by disownment, Mrs. Cope's, due to old age. Within one years' time, Seth and Leah lost Harry, Alice and I lost both Charlie and Renee and now Emmett has lost his father. So much loss in so little time. It makes me wonder if we're cursed or if something or someone is out to get us.


	16. Paying with Heirlooms

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better. I can never say thank you enough. Her stories are based on The Hunger Games and are really good! Check them out! Seriously!**

T**hank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. I hope you enjoy this extra posting. The first encounter for E/B.**

**Chapter 15**

**Paying with Heirlooms**

**Fall of 1934 to Early Spring 1935**

**Edward**

It's been over nine months since Jasper and I opened The Vault—a Pawn and Treasure Deposit Shop. We combined the idea of a pawn shop, with the safety deposit boxes. We set aside a number of boxes that we rent out to the public. There are people who don't like the idea of storing their valuables in their home.

It's a sign of the times. With the United States still mired deeply in the depression, break-ins have become prevalent. We rent out boxes from $1 to $3.50 per month. Currently we have 12 customers using our service. This helps with the rent.

Not that we need the help. With Jasper's vast knowledge of history; his ability to put a fair price on articles we purchase, contacting various interested parties and building up a customer base, we're doing very well. Museums put some of our finds that we have contacted them about in their monthly newsletter that's sent out to their benefactors. If one is interested, they either hire the museum or come themselves to view the item. A benefactor from a museum is one that purchased the Faberge egg.

Those funds enabled Jasper to continue his search for the next great find and we built a shower/bathtub combination into our remodeled bathroom, with thousands of dollars stored in our safety deposit box.

Our room is very comfortable. Neither of us requires much. We have a closet for our clothes; a divan, coffee table, bunk beds, radio and a cabinet desk with chair.

The desk is a purchase I made at an Estate Sale. When I first looked at it, it appeared to be a cabinet with a rounded front of the two doors.

However, when I opened the two massive doors, one door is lined with various sizes of cubbyholes and the other door with various sized shelves. Looking straight on, there is more storage areas with a flap that comes down, for use as a writing area. It allows me to work on our accounting books and Jasper has plenty of room to work on researching items or correspondence. The desk has a name plate of 'Wooten,' that had me doing my own search regarding the maker.

At one point, a curator with the Smithsonian, who had come to purchase papers that were written and signed by Thomas Jefferson, saw the desk and asked to purchase it. This is one buy that I'm not willing to part with right away.

Locally, we have built a good reputation. It's known that you can't sell everything or anything to us, but if we do purchase your item, you receive a fair amount for it. Because of this, we are constantly busy. We have a few display cases behind the glass wall that people come in to view.

People walking down the street will invariably come in to view our items for sale.

It's rare when someone will actually come in and pawn their item with the hope of being able to buy it back. We give them 30 days interest free. If after 30 days they don't return, we apply 2% interest for another 180 days. If they still don't return, the item is ours by default.

Only twice has this happened, and it made my stomach turn at the hope that these people held to get their heirlooms back and I can only imagine the heartbreak, when they realize they couldn't.

Some people came in only wanting an appraisal and we'll try to give our best guess. We've even made money without buying an item, simply a finder's fee for those who were patient enough to sell for the best price.

Along with our everyday work of purchasing and selling, which I'm proud to be very good at, Jasper, researches the violin. If it was stolen he can't find it. Currently it's locked up in the vault. This is something that we show no one until we feel that we can sell it safely. Because, when we do, I will be able to repay the Swan sisters with interest.

H~~H

**Bella**

It's late in the morning and I have been working in the family garden, readying the soil for this year's planting. I hope that we'll have a good yield because this might be the only thing that gets us through the coming winter. Alice has already collected the eggs, keeping a few in the coop for hatching for extra meat in stews. She's milked the two cows and put them to pasture with the bull. One of our milk cows is getting old so this time I'm hoping for a heifer. There are two ten month old steers from the last breeding there and one will have to be butchered for beef soon.

After washing my hands, I get ready to start churning the milk to make some butter, when I hear a car pull up towards the front of the house.

Walking to the front, I hear the knocking on the door. I look out the window and see that it's none other than Royce King.

Rosalie is coming out of hers and Emmett's room, but I shake my head at her, letting her know to go back inside the room. She stands stock still, then realizing who it must be, goes back into her room, shutting the door quietly.

I smooth my hair, and open the door to see Royce standing there with a cocky grin on his face. Over his shoulder I see Emmett coming up behind him. I open the door wider, and as politely as possible I ask, "Mr. King, to what do we owe this visit?"

"Isabella, we have known each since we were little kids—you don't need to be so formal." He chides me.

Emmett, who has now reached the porch, moves past Royce, to stand beside me. Royce stiffens, but doesn't lose the overconfident look on his face.

"Emmett," Royce nods. Emmett nods back, not speaking a word, but letting him know that he won't be leaving.

"Do you mind if I come in Isabella? We have some business to discuss and I'd rather it not be here on the front porch." Royce announces.

Not having a clue as to what business I would have with Royce King, Emmett and I back away from the door and let him come in. I gesture to the parlor and he takes a seat on the divan; Emmett and I sit in the two chairs opposite him.

"I can't imagine what business we have to discuss, Mr. King." I confidently state, refusing to acknowledge him in any way other than formally.

Royce cocks his brow at me. "Well Isabella," he stresses my name, letting me know he understands what I am doing, "the property taxes were due on your property over six months ago and knowing that you're a little low on funds, I had the bank pay the taxes. The bank now owns part of your property. I'm here to discuss the payment of this loan."

I'm stunned. I hadn't received a tax bill from the county. Jacob has been collecting the mail for us since the death of our parents. There were other bills that were paid but not this one. How is that possible?

As my mind reels, the only thing that comes out of my mouth in a low voice is, "How much?"

Royce takes his time, seeming to enjoy my discomfort, as he prolongs his answer. "Two hundred dollars," he says finally.

I feel the color draining from my face. Two hundred dollars is so much money. What are we going to do? How are we going to pay it? Can the bank take our land?

"Can we make payments?" is the only thought I voice.

Royce seems to have been waiting for just that question. "I would really like to be able to do that, Isabella, but with the economy the way that it is, the most I can offer you is 30 days," he says almost apologetically.

Only 30 days. One month. That's no time at all. How can we pay this? Royce's voice penetrates my pensive thoughts. "I can see that this is the last thing that you need right now, Isabella, but I have a proposal for you,"

"What?" Is all I ask? I'm still in a state of disbelief here.

Royce looks from me to Emmett then back to me again. "This is something I would really like to discuss with you in a more private setting Isabella," he suggests.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emmett look as if he's about to speak, but I still his attempt. "Anything that you propose, you can say in front of Emmett. He's family and knows everything about our present situation," I state clearly and concisely.

Royce obviously doesn't like this answer. But, with his usual self-assuredness, he gives a simple shrug of his shoulders. "As you wish. What I propose is this: I will personally pay off your debt. Your lands will be free and clear for another year. Actually Isabella, you wouldn't need to worry about them at all," he says with a smug grin.

I sit there with no expression showing on my face and wait for him to continue. I feel a shiver running up my spine, dreading what's coming next, but don't let it show. He seems to take this as an affirmation of my acceptance as a possible solution to all our problems.

"I have heard all the rumors of the hard times that you have been experiencing and the hardship that Alice has caused you." He continues on seeming to ignore my glare of resentment. "You know, Isabella, that I have always thought you are a beautiful girl—no. Now you're a stunning woman. I think that with your intelligence, we'll make a very powerful couple, Isabella. So what I propose is this," he waits for a moment, making sure he has my attention, and then self-assuredly demands, "Marry me."

I just stare at him as if he's insane. The audacity of this man is astonishing. He thinks I would marry him? How can he? After how he treat Rosalie! Did he forget that he called me a bitch?

I finally look at Emmett and he's just as stunned as I am. Then I can see the anger building, but I'm not positive if it's at Royce or me when he returns my look. Did Emmett think I would accept his proposal to save the family and land? No, Emmett knows me better than that, doesn't he?

Royce looks relaxed and confident, sitting calmly, waiting patiently for my answer. Finally, I answer him. "First of all Mr. King, let me make this perfectly clear. Alice does not cause me or anyone any hardship. She has taken the loss of our parents very hard—_that is all!_ Everyone takes personal lose differently. Secondly, I cannot believe that you think that I would ever consider this proposal as anything other than blackmail."

"It's not blackmail, Isabella, it's a business proposition," Royce interrupts. What is it with men who have money that makes them believe that every woman can be bought? _I will never sell myself!_

Rage is working its way out of my seemingly calm disposition as I ignore his comment, "And thirdly, you need to leave now, Mr. King. And, I respectfully request that if the bank needs to send a representative in the future, it be anyone but you. I also demand that you never set foot on my property ever again!"

Royce's face instantly becomes red with anger. Emmett immediately stands up with fists clenched. "Can I show you to the door?" he sneers through gritted teeth.

Royce doesn't move. He completely ignores Emmett and with a renewed confidence continues, "I think you need to some time to think about this, Isabella. What I'm offering, is to save your plantation for you. We can find Alice a safe place that will take care of her and relieve you of that burden. You will be the envy of all the women as my wife." He's self-righteous once again—his expression conveying that I am an idiot to not to except his generous offer immediately.

I fly out of the chair, ready to rip that over confident look from his face. Just as I am hauling my fist back to level it at him, Emmett quickly wraps his arms around my waist and hauls me across the room. As I struggle against Emmett's firm grip, I notice that for the first time the arrogance has left Royce's face.

"It's Miss Swan to you, you son of a bitch. Get out, get out of my house and don't ever come here again. I will see you in hell before I will ever agree to marry a bastard like you. Get out of my sight," I yell. I don't believe I have ever sworn out loud in my life but I don't care. He called Alice, a burden? I'll be the envy of other women? It's too much!

When Royce doesn't move fast enough for my liking and Emmett's grip is not letting me loose, I scream again, "Get the hell off my property, NOW!"

Royce moves to the door quickly, as I continue struggling hard against Emmett, still wanting to get at least one good punch in. Royce turns and an evil look comes into his eyes, "You will regret this Miss Swan." Then he's out the door, slamming it behind him. At least he got the name right.

Emmett still doesn't release my struggling form until we no longer hear his car leaving the property. Then he turns me around and hugs me.

"He's gone now. It's okay. It's okay, he's gone," he whispers.

Rosalie, either hearing the yelling or the slamming of the door, comes into the room and hugs the both of us as I start to calm down from Emmett's litany. Then Alice is there and I grab her to me, holding onto her for dear life. My heart is still pounding at his words of her being a burden and putting her away some place. For the longest time, the four of us stay in a tight comforting knot of family.

I rein in my emotions as best I can and say, "I need to walk this off. Thank you for being here Emmett. I don't know what I would have done."

"Jeez, Bella, you're a regular little spitfire aren't you? You're amazing. You would have ripped his head off and then we would probably be visiting you in jail. We can't have that happen now can we?" he finishes with a grin. We laugh a little at that thought. My mood is still too raw for me that even Emmett's humor can't penetrate it.

I unwrap myself from their comforting arms. I need to get out of this room where Royce's presence still lingers.

H~~H

I need to clear my head. So many thoughts are swirling about, trying to pull me under; not to mention the pain which has taken possession of my heart.

I decide to take a long walk into the fallow fields which used to produce some of the finest cotton ever grown. These fields were the main stay for our existence for so long, and now they're all gone as well. I look to the far side of the field with its hilly slopes. My eyes wander to the spot where we grew peanuts once upon a time. It too is barren and my heart is once again seized by an overwhelming ache.

So much emptiness now surrounds me; I feel the emptiness in the thousand plus acres of my family's plot. Emptiness from inside the great house. And most certainly I feel the emptiness for the people I loved and those who live here still, when this Plantation was the hub of our universe.

This emptiness is felt the deepest in my heart and head. Everything I know and love about this land is now gone; it is almost too much to comprehend. I just block out the unpleasant parts and keep going. I think this is why I am able to forge ahead.

It's spring time, a time for tilling the soil and planting. It's a time for life to begin anew; to flourish as it has for my family for two hundred years. And yet nothing is planted and nothing will be. As I continue my walk through the grasses and weeds trying to take over this untilled space, I notice a seedling attempting to grow.

A little cotton seedling, barely obtaining its true leaves, is trying to make its way through the life cycle to become a full fledge plant. It's an optimist in this barren landscape. My face curls into a grimace as I try to glean some reasoning behind the plant's stupidity. I reach down to pluck the insolent little seedling out of the soil, angry that it would taunt me. To remind me again of the happier times—the days when my family was whole and complete; when life was easy. I still my movements and scream at the seedling from inside my head: _How dare you?!_

I feel like Atlas struggling with the weight of the world, as if it resides on my shoulders. And in many ways it does here in my little corner of existence.

People are depending on me.

People are expecting me to make the right decisions.

It's too much!

I'm only eighteen; but age doesn't seem to matter to the land of the living. In fact, I'm learning time has a way of changing ones' life quickly.

Because suddenly, I feel so much older than the calendar says I am.

As I reach back to pluck the brazen little invader and toss it to the hard ground, my hand is stilled again. The similarity between me and this stubborn little plant strikes me as plain as day. I realize it's just trying to survive on its own, just like I'm trying to do. I stand back up again and gaze around as far as the eye can see. I gaze on the land which has been in my family for generations. My mind reels; how can I resent a seedling?

Barely surviving but surviving nonetheless. I should take a page from the seedling's book and fight. This is what I should do.

This is what I must do!

The wind picks up and my skirt flies over the little plant—bending it. Grabbing the material of my skirt and pushing it between my knees, I bend down once more. This time, I add extra dirt around the base to secure and strengthen it. I smile to myself for my juxtaposing ways. One minute I'm angry at the seedling and the next trying to help it grow. My life has become its own dichotomy.

I'm so confused, resentful, hurt, sad—the list is endless; such a myriad of emotions take over my mind.

As I stand back up, my thoughts drifts and I look to my home in the distance. I fool myself into believing I can actually hear my dad's voice. I remember him telling me these exact words time and time again from the front porch or here in the fields, with a smile on his face: _remember Bella, if you treat the land with respect—work the soil, plant the seed and care for it—it will pay you back tenfold in return._ He would grab my shoulder, with a gentle squeeze, as he spoke those words to me. It was his litany. The gospel according to Charlie Swan—handed down to him from generations past.

Looking around at the now vastness of nothingness surrounding me, I hear those words and try to hold back the tears.

"It is not my fault, this is not my fault!" I yell to no one and no one answers. I feel the crushing weigh of pain on my heart and sink to the ground, grabbing handfuls of dirt and weeds. "This is not my fault," I repeat, whispering to myself.

I look to the sky. "Dad, tell me what to do? Please, just tell me what to do." But again, my words are met with silence. I let my head fall down to stare at the earth, my tears landing on the seedling and sinking into the dry earth.

After a time of letting the anguish win its war on my emotions, I'm left empty of tears. I wipe my hands of soil on my dirty skirt, and remove the remaining tears from my face with my fingers, dropping one last tear on the seedling. It was probably my imagination—I'm sure of it—but I swear that seedling stood a little taller. I see my dad's smile in my mind's eye and feel his touch on my shoulder in comfort.

Straightening once again, I look around the barren fields, and then to my home again. I still have Alice; she needs to listen to me and help me make a plan. Then there's Emmett, who has stayed on with us so far, trying to help us survive. Sweet Rosalie, who wants a life just as the rest of us. Dear Mrs. Cope—she too has remained with us. Seth and Leah have been a blessing in disguise; parentless one month earlier then Alice and I. They continue to endeavor and show a great sense of character to help as well. All of us orphaned in one way or another but together we are surviving. We are a motley group.

With a new resolve and purpose in my step, I start for home. I will do my father and mother proud, along with the ones before us and the rest who still reside here, I think to myself. "No, we will make them proud. All of us will. Nothing is going keep us down again," I say aloud to no one. But somehow, I feel like this time I'm heard, as a wave of wellbeing for the first time, in a long time, fills my soul.

It's time to start respecting my forefathers, my home, and the land.

H~~H

When I return home, I see Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Mrs. Cope all sitting in the parlor. "I assume that Emmett filled you in on the conversation I had with Royce," I guess. They all nod and Alice gets up and gives me another hug.

Mrs. Cope looks proudly at me and says, "I wish your parents could have seen that Bella, they always loved your fiery spirit." I flush, thinking of the curse words I yelled. And for the first time, I'm happy they weren't here to see that.

Sitting with Emmett on the divan is Rosalie who looks at me as if I can walk on water. "I wish I could have stood up to him and my parents the way you did Bella. You're amazing," she says. Emmett with his arm around her shoulders gives her a gentle hug.

"Well, as amazing as I may have been, we only have thirty day to pay back the bank. We need to think of some way to get two hundred dollars or we will have to sell our home," I stress with firmness.

I look at all the faces of those that I love and see them all trying to come up with a way to do just that.

Suddenly, Alice leaves the room only to return holding two candlesticks that usually reside on the dining room table. She hands them to me and barely whispers, "Sell." I just stare at her; she hasn't spoken a word since our parents died. The screaming of her nightmares doesn't count. I do the only thing I can do at that moment, and that, is hug her tight with candlesticks in my hands. I may be getting my Alice back.

She finally pulls away and heads into the library, where she returns with a journal from the late 1700's. She flips through the pages, until she gets to the passage she wants, handing it out to me to read.

It is the life of Joseph J. Swan, known only as Joseph in this part of the journal. He had joined the Sons of Liberty and spent the winter of 1777-78 in Valley Forge with General George Washington. They had heard that the British had taken over Savannah, as well as other parts of the south.

When he finally returned home, it was to find his family's crops had been burned to the ground, by the British, because our family had refused to give their allegiance to the King.

The Siege of Savannah or the Second Battle of Savannah was an encounter between the French by sea, nonconformist Georgians with the aid of the Polish Count Kazimierz (Casimir) Pulaski. He was a general in the Continental Army and created the Pulaski Cavalry Legion. He was known as the father of American cavalry. Joseph knew Pulaski from the Battle of Brandywine, where his cavalry helped save the life of George Washington, when the British took the General by surprise.

The year before, the City of Savannah, had been captured by a British expeditionary corps under Lieutenant-Colonel Archibald Campbell.

On October 9th, a major assault against the British siege works failed. During the attack; Pulaski was mortally wounded, when he was struck by cannon fire, while astride his horse. Joseph wrote that Pulaski once said, "I came here, where freedom is being defended, to serve it, and to live or die for it."

With the failure of the joint American-French attack, the British remained in control of Savannah until July 1782, near the end of the war.

After the Revolution, Savannah was the first capital of Georgia, relinquishing that role to Augusta in 1786. President George Washington visited Savannah in 1791.

During his stay he called on Catharine Greene of nearby Mulberry Grove Plantation. She was the widow of General Nathanael Greene, commander of the Continental army in the southern theater, who had been awarded Mulberry Grove in recognition of his services to the cause of independence. Then he had taken time to visit Joseph of the Swan Plantation.

President Washington himself presented the candlesticks to Joseph as a thank you for all he and his family suffered during the war. They were the candlesticks that stayed the dark, eating his first dinner as President of the United States. He told Joseph, "I wouldn't have had that meal, if it wasn't for people like you."

I close the journal and look at Alice. "You want us to sell these? They've been in the family for over a hundred years. These are valuable to us as part of our history," and ask disbelievingly.

She simply looks at the candlesticks, then to me and shrugs, basically stating with that move, a family has to sacrifice sometimes, they're just candlesticks.

Then it strikes me. Valuable, they might be worth something to someone. Enough value to pay the taxes? I have no idea. Hope starts to surge through my blood. I begin to feel energized. I look from the candlesticks then to Alice, "Thank you, Alice, we can do this!" I look around the room from Mrs. Cope, to Emmett and then Rosalie and with more conviction in my voice I repeat, "We can do this."

Everyone starts smiling and then laughing. Everyone, except for Alice, starts chanting low, then louder with a final crescendo of, "WE CAN DO THIS!"

After we all calm down, I think aloud, "We need a plan, who do we sell to and for how much? Who has that kind of money to buy them?"

We try to think of the people that we know in Savannah who might want our little piece of history. The only ones that we know who have money are Royce and Mister Black. Neither of those options is acceptable.

After a time, some of our hope starts to fade. But we aren't giving up. We decide we need to go to a larger city. We think of Atlanta, but that's over two hundred miles away. We start thinking outside the state, maybe Florida, but the bigger cities again are too far away. South Carolina is north of us and no one has been there but the City of Charleston is large and less than 100 miles from here.

H~~H

Emmett and I are leaving for Charleston this morning. We aren't sure if we'll be gone one or two days. I don't like the idea of leaving Alice, Rose and Mrs. Cope alone. Seth and Leah had come over earlier and we explain all that has occurred with Royce.

Seth brings up the point, that taxes may also be due on the Brandon property. Leah has a friend who works for the county and is going to see if there are. Seth and Leah both volunteer to stay at our house. They agree that with Royce's anger and the fire we had, it's better to have a man around the house. Seth left for a bit and then comes back with his hunting rifle. I feel so much better.

The drive doesn't take that long, only a little over three hours and it's a beautiful day. I just wish I could enjoy it better, instead of worrying about the taxes, the cost of fuel and those we left behind. Being as thrift as I am, I pack a huge basket filled with fresh baked bread, cheese, butter, jams, a chunk of smoked ham and the leftover beef stew from last evening. I'm not spending money for food. We aren't going to stay in a hotel either. I packed pillows and blankets to either sleep in the car or on the ground. We need every penny to count.

Emmett and I decide we'll head towards the port of Charleston first. Our thinking is we might sell the candlesticks to either people who are arriving with, hopefully money in pocket or those leaving and maybe wanting to take a little bit of history home with them. With journal in hand, we spent hours talking to so many people I lost count, answering their questions only to be offered a dollar or two. One gentleman offered one pound. I'm hoping for a pound of gold only to be informed it was a British dollar. I tell him, "No, thank you" and walk away.

We call it a day after that. Emmett drives around and we find a secluded park. There we eat, and plan our new strategy and fall asleep in the car.

H~~H

The sun is shining brightly on my face as I open my eyes. I try to move but the kink in my neck tells me to take it slowly. _Or not at all!_

Sleeping in the passenger seat with my head leaning against the window does not make for a good night's rest. When I'm finally able to move my head a little, I look into the back seat where Emmett is sleeping. However, when I can move enough I realize he isn't there. What the heck!

I sit up straight and look around outside, but I still don't see him. I open the door, stepping out—only I don't find solid ground. I fall, head first towards the earth with my hands barely breaking my fall as my face plants in the grass.

During my free fall, I hear an "OUCH," yelled out and realize I stepped on Emmett's stomach. He must have sat up quickly and knocked his head into the open car door. I roll onto my back, moaning, while brushing the grass and dirt off my face and rubbing my sore nose. I look over to Emmett, who is flat on his back rubbing his nose and groaning.

"Are you alright? I moan.

"Yeah, I think so. What a way to wake up," he groans back.

I take notice of the blanket wrapped around him and the pillow under his head. It was a chilly night so I never expected him to sleep outside.

"Why were you sleeping out here?" I gripe. My nose isn't stinging as bad as it was.

"You snore," he says with a grin appearing on his face.

"I snore? Do I really?" How embarrassing is that? I didn't know. Then I notice his grin getting wider, and realize I'd been had. I get up and yank his pillow from under his head and try to smother him. _Stupid man-child!_

Emmett, easily pushes me off him, still laughing. "I couldn't get comfortable in the backseat," he explains. "I felt like I was crushed into a tiny ball. I decided to sleep outside, but I wanted to be able to protect you. We're in a strange city, so I locked all the doors, except yours and slept out here, but nearby just in case."

I can't speak for a moment. He was worried about me. Then I start laughing hard. Big huge gasps of mirth invade my body. Emmett is trying to ask, "What's so funny?" but I never allow him a complete sentence. Finally, I settle down and I'm able to answer, "You wanted to protect me, but I was the one to step on your stomach that caused you to hit your face on the door. I think you got the raw end of that deal." Emmett chuckles, and then agrees with my point.

"Thank you Emmett, that's really sweet of you. Rosalie, sure is a lucky woman to have you," I admit with sincerity.

He blushes.

H~~H

We eat a light breakfast, and then Emmett drives us into Charleston proper. As we're traveling through the city, I'm looking at every shop that may have an interest in the candlesticks. Nothing leaps out at me. He parks the car, and we decide to get out and look around on foot with the journal and candlesticks in a gunny sack, over Emmett's shoulder.

I've forgotten to bring a brush, so I put my hair in a high pony tail and shove it under my straw hat, that I wear low on my head. Today, I wear a blue floral print blouse that I tuck into my jeans. I'm also wearing my boots hidden under my jeans because they fit me like a glove and are comfortable to walk around in. Emmett wears the same except for a plain blue shirt. You can definitely tell we're not city dwellers.

We walk around for about an hour and then Emmett notices three balls hanging from a sign above us. He tells me it's a Pawn Shop and that they buy everything. I'm desperate, tired and agitated that this isn't as easy as I expected it to be, so it's worth a shot.

A bell announces our entrance as Emmett opens the door for me. I walk into the front space of the shop and let my gaze roam. The walls have several large paintings with pastorals scenes or beautiful locations.

One pastoral scene catches my attention. Painted is a man pointing, as if giving directions to a man on horseback, on a rutted road with trees, a lake and cows in a far pasture. It is painted in another age and yet, it's timeless. There's a place card with the painter's name: Jan Wijnants (1632 - January 23, 1684) title unknown, in perfect penmanship. This painting is over two hundred years old and yet so perfect—it could have been painted yesterday.

I view the two other paintings and then notice two clocks. Another place card is resting against the first one: A rare Imperial Chinese ormolu, enamel and paste-set clock from the Guasgzhou Workshops of the Quinlong Period in the late 1700's. It has musical and automated singing birds and strikes on the quarter hour. Just then the clock strikes the hour and birds are singing. It's incredible. The other clock is an exquisite tall-case clock. The place card read: Chippendale with the dial signed by Jacob Godschalk. Grandfather clock made in Philadelphia between 1765 and 1775.

There are no prices on the place cards and I have a feeling that if you have to ask, you probably can't afford it. I keep quiet. The clearing of a throat, interrupts my musings, as I glance towards a wall of glass that has a few windows cut into it. I then notice a man behind the glass.

Oh my, what a man! He must be standing behind the counter for he's well over 6' tall. The sun shining through a side window glances off his wild hair that shimmers in light and dark browns with red and gold in between. The colors remind me of the turning leaves of autumn. He doesn't wear that greasy concoction that's popular now for that slicked back look. I can see his hooded fern green eyes looking back at me, maybe with impatience, but I haven't finished my perusal of him. Actually, I've never perused a man before and want to remember every detail of this fine specimen under glass. He has a straight aquiline nose, sculptured cheek bones, chiseled jaw and full lips that are slightly parted, waiting to be kissed.

Waiting to be kissed? Where did that come from? But, he is the most handsome man ever to be created.

Another throat clears, rousing me from my rapture. I glance up at Emmett as he's eyeing me and I think I blush for the first time in my life.

Actually, gawking at a man is a first for me too. Then I realize I'll have to talk to him! But that also means I can look at his gorgeous eyes and kissable mouth again.

All of a sudden, I hear Charlie speaking to me; _always remember to look a person in the eyes. You will be able to know who you're dealing with._ I'm reminded of my purpose here and that there are more important things to think about, than this gorgeous man.

Straightening my shoulders, head held high, I walk to the counter. "This is a pawn shop, correct?" I ask with pseudo confidence.

He nods his head with those smoldering eyes staring deeply into mine.

"Well, I'm hoping that you might have an interest in some candlesticks that I would like to sell," I breathe out the words in a rush. His only response, is to raise his eyebrow waiting for more details. We stare at each other for another moment and I remember Emmett has them in the sack. Trying not to look inept, I reach out my hands to Emmett. He sets the bag on the counter and pulls out the candlesticks.

I move them to the window, so the man can look at them closer. He reaches out one hand with long, slender fingers, touching mine briefly, and a spark careens through my system. He looks up at me and I wonder if he felt it too. He then hefts one stick as if weighing it. He turns it upside down inspecting it. I watch him closely, not understanding what he's doing, but fascinated by it none the less. He pulls the second stick over and does the same, then places them side by side, comparing the two.

Finally, he looks at me again, asking in a deep, rich, butter melting voice, "How much are you selling them for?"

It takes me a moment to clear his voice from reverberating in my head. "Two hundred dollars," I state, quietly but firmly.

Again, he arches that wicked brow at me. I hurriedly explain, "These candlesticks were presented to a member of my family in the 1790's by President George Washington himself. He used them at his dinner table the night he was first inaugurated."

"Do you have proof of that?" the husky voiced one asks.

I reach into the sack, pull out the journal, bookmarked to that page of history, and turn it around so he could read it.

He takes his time, as if memorizing all the written details of the encounter. When he's done, he pushes the book back towards me and I close it.

Looking me in the eye he states, "While you appear to have provenance in writing and the candlesticks do appear to be from that time period, it's not enough to prove authenticity. The most I can offer you is $25 for the pair."

There is no way that I can sell them for that. That's barely a dent into what we need. "They have to be worth at least $200, but I'll sell them for $100. You'll still make a profit off them." I bargain aggressively.

"I could possibly sell them one day for that but it might take years. I'm in the business of making money now," he's succinct but gentle.

"Making money now? How long have those paintings or those clocks been waiting for a buyer? Surely, you spent thousands on those items," I argue, waving my hand around the room. I know I'm being bold or rude, I'm not sure which one, but I'm desperate for more than he offered.

That damn eyebrow is lifted again and I know I've over stepped my bounds. "Not that it's any of your business, but all those items are sold. That's why there's no price listing on them. They're just being held until the buyers pick them up," he says evenly, never taking his eyes off mine and I know he speaks the truth.

I feel chastised and rightly so. "Please, that was rude, I'm sorry. You're right—it's none of my business. I'm desperate for money and shouldn't have spoken like that. Can you at least make it $25 for each one," I whisper, while begging him with my eyes.

He stares at me again, as if looking into my soul for a moment. Maybe he's warring with his own thoughts, but eventually, he nods his head, yes.

I'm so happy at this point—I think I could've danced a Charleston. Instead, I give him my biggest and best smile, while happily whispering, "Thank you so very much."

He stares at me again, taking in all my features, especially my smile it seems, and then shakes his head as if clearing his thoughts. He takes the candlesticks into the back and then returns moments later, to count out $50 to me onto the counter.

Quickly swiping up the money before he has a chance to change his mind, I repeat, "Thank you again."

Smiling at him one last time, I turn and walk out of the shop with Emmett following behind me. Gorgeous penny pinching man, is my first thought, as I inhale a large gulp of fresh air. Then I think of his features again and drop the penny pinching part.


	17. The New Deal

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better. She is ever so busy and didn't have time to review, so any errors are mine. Well, all errors are always mine. She still deserves a shout out for all she's done. Her stories are based on The Hunger Games and are really good! Check them out! Seriously!**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. I plan on posting a chapter the next four nights since so many want more interaction with Bella and Edward. By Saturday's posting most of my pmers should get what they've requested. At least-I hope. :)**

**Chapter 16 **

**The New Deal**

**Spring – 1935 **

**Bella**

I don't remember much of the drive home from Charleston. Emmett doesn't question my behavior in the Pawn Shop. He seems to understand I need to work out my own thoughts and for this, I'm grateful.

For hours I'm lost in another world. How are we going to gain the balance for the taxes? Was more due on the Brandon property? Was Leah even able to find out? Could I get a loan on the property when I can't show income? I must have work out every possible scenario for a loan with no plausible outcome without selling more of our personal possessions.

But mostly, I think of fern green eyes, hair that reminds me of seasons changing, and a mouth so sensual I want it on mine and everywhere…

Never before have I ever had these thoughts and I'm frustrated and saddened with the knowledge I may never see him again. My only saving grace is I will never look like a love sick fool, since he doesn't live around Savannah. I wonder if I'll ever tell Alice about the encounter. My brief little slice of heaven, of basking in his beauty, doesn't seem fair. I think saving this little piece of information will have to stay my secret, taking into account her continued struggles with the nightmares, which still haunt her.

As I ponder over my last thought, something clicks in my head. Two words: saving and account. Savings account! Our Grandparents Brandon had left each of us each a savings account! I think the passbooks are in the safe. I've never looked at the amount. Charlie just put them in the safe after the reading of the will.

Hope springs from the dry well of my heart to overflowing. I'm just about to tell Emmett of my epiphany when I realize the car has stopped and we're home.

Emmett is staring at me with a slightly worried expression. "Bella, are you alright?"

I smile brightly at him, "Yes Emmett, I think everything will be fine." I giggle. Now he looks at me as if I lost my mind.

I continue smiling while I open the door, ran up the steps and through the front door. Everyone is in the parlor, but I only smile and as I run past them, into the library. Moving the screen, tumbling the knob and opening safe, I search and find the envelope which holds the passbooks.

Saying a little prayer, hoping there is enough to save us and the bank is still in business, I open my passbook to see a balance of $100. Breathing in deeply and exhaling forcefully, I then open Alice's. Sure enough, there too is a balance of $100.

We have the money! The taxes will be paid! Relief washes through me and I start laughing hysterically. I don't hear Alice or anyone else enter the room. With passbooks in hand, waving them around in the air, still laughing, Alice moves towards me and looks at what has me going silly.

The smile that ghosts over her face—is beautiful. It's been too long since I've seen it and I hug her tight.

H~~H

We write immediately to the lawyer Mr. Grey, who had handled our Grandparents Will, explaining our situation and the need to close out the savings accounts.

Over a week later, Mr. Grey has written back, stating he needs us to send him the passbooks. He's also states; he will personally handle our request, pro bono, because he liked our Grandparents and couldn't in good conscience ask for payment in our dire circumstances. I silently thank every deity I can think of for our good fortune.

All in all, it takes a little over three weeks for us to receive a special delivery letter with the money enclosed. We all breathe a sigh of relief. Leah had found out taxes were indeed due on the Brandon property of $25, and the bank had paid off those taxes at the same time as the Plantations. Royce seems to have forgotten to inform us about this little detail. _The bastard!_

H~~H

With Emmett in tow, it's with great pleasure to walk into the King Bank, for the first and hopefully last time. I ignore the cocky smile I receive from Royce and ask a teller, "Could I speak to Mr. King, President of the Bank, please?" The teller asks us to wait a moment and walks to a closed door.

I glance at Royce, who now has a confused look on his face. The teller returns and escorts Emmett and me into the office and closes the door behind us. Sitting behind the desk is an older version of Royce, right down to the arrogant, holier than thou attitude, as he asks for us to take a seat. We both refuse.

Wanting to keep this meeting brief, I succinctly explain how the bank paid property taxes without my knowledge and with no paperwork to let me know of any loan due. I leave out Royce's visit because I don't know his father or how immoral he may be. But, I do mention how it is highly unethical for a bank to operate in such an underhanded way. I also explain how our lawyer will be looking into his banking practices very soon.

When we received the funds, there was an a note from the Mr. Grey, stating; he had spoken to several banks and it is illegal to never have received any written notification regarding the payoff of the taxes or a loan being created without our knowledge, let alone our required signature and he would be looking further into the matter.

Mr. King's face changes dramatically from superior to pasty white, as a fine sheen of perspiration forms on his brow. He excuses himself to retrieve the paperwork. Emmett and I never speak a word, while we wait five minutes before he returns with the original loan documents.

"Miss Swan, if you would please sign here and here, we can get this matter resolved and the loans paid off," he tries to hand me a pen, as he points to the two document lines where my name is typed underneath with the date, from when the loans were first originated.

"No," is all I say.

Dampness is now visible on his high end shirt from his armpits. "Miss Swan, these loan documents need to have your signature. If you would just sign…," he begins to say more but I cut him off.

"Mr. King, I never asked for these loans. The bank initiated this action without my consent. I will _not_ be signing anything. I have $225 here to pay the loans in full and I require a receipt," I politely demand.

"Well, $225 covers the original loan, but there's also the matter of the interest…," he begins, then watches my face morph from incredulous to anger instantly and he backs down. "Ah, we'll remove any interest. We want our customers to be happy," he finishes, as if this is a huge boon to me.

I give him my best bitch brow as he immediately grabs his receipt book to write them out. I count out the money, which he verifies, handing me my paid in full receipts. I also pick up the loan papers and for a brief moment, I think he thought I was going to sign them. "I'll just take these with me since I never received my copy. My lawyer is most anxious to review them," I smirk at him.

Mr. King looks apoplectic as he begins to speak again.

Before he can, I turn and walk towards door, I look over at him one last time, wave at him with a cheery, "Have a good day," and walk out completely ignoring Royce's curious stare.

As we walk down the street, Emmett starts chuckling. It increases in volume and I join in. By the time we reached the automobile, Emmett and I have an arm around each other and I'm laughing so hard my sides hurt. It's one of those great cathartic laughs which helps heal the soul. _I feel vindicated._

H~~H

A week has passed since I visited the bank and in this time many things have occurred. Emmett and I go into town to get the basics we don't grow or raise. Grains and hay for the livestock. For the humans; we need flour, beans, rice, etc. While we're there, we run into Lauren. She's a fountain of information, spouting about a fall out between Jacob and Royce, to Mister Black having died in a hunting accident, with his funeral being held later today. I honestly can't find it in my heart to attend out of respect for a long standing family acquaintance or for Jacob's loss.

At dinner, we all talk about the life and times of Mister Billy Black. None of us regret not attending the funeral. In my opinion, as sad as it may sound, it speaks volumes about the man himself.

Just as we're clearing the table, we hear a vehicle coming quickly up the drive and then it skids to a halt. We all look at each other in confusion. This is followed with a loud banging on the door, which startles us more. Emmett and Seth both go to answer the door signaling us to stay back.

Emmett looks out the side window and then nods to Seth to open it. There stands a swaying and very inebriated Jacob. With a smile on his face, he waves, while speaking loudly, "Hi everyone. I don't know if you know it, but I buried my dad today."

Then Jacob is leering at me, sending those chills racing up and down my spine, making any form of sympathy I may have offered instantly vanish.

"Jacob, would you like some coffee?" I offer instead.

"Really Bella? Coffee? No—I'm sorry for your loss, Jacob. No—how ya doin Jacob? Just Jacob, would you like some coffee? I'll stick with whishey, thank ya very mush," he slurs in disgust at my offer.

"How are you doing, Jacob?" I inquire per his request, not inviting him to come in. I don't know what a drunken Jacob might be capable of doing.

"I'm doin juz fine, Bella, juz fine. And you?" He's sarcastic in his answer.

"I'm well, Jacob. Would you like someone to drive you home? You seem a little unsteady," I strive to be as polite as possible.

"I am unsteady. I've been trying this drink, somthin called liquid courage. It's posed to allow you to say what you feel, ya kno? So here goes. Bella, marry me. My dad's dead and he won't bother you, us, everagain. Wha 'cha say Bells? Bells, hum, I like that, Bells, wha 'cha think," his slurring becoming increasing worse. Or is it, he's getting better at slurring? _He is past drunk!_

Not wanting to postpone the inevitable, because it might mean he'll come back thinking he has a chance, I shake my head. "No, Jacob, I won't marry you." I kick the dog while he's down.

He looks at me with bleary, bloodshot eyes. "Juz had tagiveyaonelast shot. Nows we'll alls juz moveon. Nite Bells," he mumbles and turns around abruptly, swaying down the steps to his truck. I try once again to ask if he wants a ride but he either doesn't hear me or want one. For the first time, I'm happy we haven't any crops. He would have wiped out a pretty pennies worth with his erratic driving.

H~~H

I've been working in the garden all day nurturing my little seedlings. Leah was helping, but just went inside to help with cooking the evening meal. She's full of interesting tidbits. The King's Bank has closed its doors temporarily as the Internal Revenue Service is going through their files. All the bank's assets have been frozen and this means no one, not even the Kings can withdraw their money. Of course, this means none of its customers can access their monies either. It makes me wonder if Mr. Grey is behind the IRS's investigation. I feel guilty if this is the case.

The customers are the innocents in this event.

The Kings have left the city and some say the country, due to the witch hunt of citizens, state and the federal government, looking for them for questioning.

The last person to withdrawal their funds in full, was Mr. Jacob Black, as he's telling people to address him by now. I'm appalled he would follow in his father's footsteps, now placing himself above others. _The nerve of some people!_

He and Lauren now seem to be the new 'it' couple' and in a way they're perfectly suited for each other. Not as in, 'Oh, what a lovely couple,' but as in—both are only interested in their own selfish desires. I can't see how it will work out for them but at least he isn't bothering me anymore.

I finish watering the last area of the garden while still thinking about all the recent changes. The seemingly rise of Jacob, the fall of Royce, to the passing of Mister Black. The two marriage proposals I receive in a one month period of time. The most disparaging thought about them is, they don't want me, as it's my land that has the only value. I'm only a necessary accessory. I hope someday I'll find someone who will love me—for me.

My mind returns to its favorite vision, Fern Green. I'm obsessed with him. I've finally admitted this it to myself. But, it's to be expected, since he's visited me in my dreams every night, since the day I saw him. The dreams are becoming more passionate, explicit in desires and I'm feeling needs as never before. I feel his mouth on my skin, his hands moving lower making me tremble, my hands on his…

"Bella, come wash up, dinner's ready," Mrs. Cope calls from the back porch, startling me away from daydreams of my night visions. I feel my cheeks flush at my own embarrassment, and put away the tools, so I can gain control of my emotions before going in.

I wash quickly, entering the dining room, where the conversation is centered on the coming planting season we're about to miss.

"I think I want to plow the fields and plant the seeds from last year. If all of us work the fields we can get by until harvesting, then maybe, I don't know, we try for a loan or we just make due with us. We can still make a little money," Emmett's excitement is building with each word spoken.

"I'm up for it. I'm not doing anything right now and no one's hiring," Seth adds with some enthusiasm.

"The only expense we would have right now would be for fuel and oil for the equipment," Foreman Emmett is in the house. You can see the wheels turning in his head. He looks at me, "If you start looking for a buyer now, you might be able to ask for an advance on goodwill. You know the cotton grown here is the best in the area, maybe even the state," he reminds me, but he doesn't have to, this I know.

The table becomes animated with Emmett, Seth, Rosalie, Leah and even Mrs. Cope. Everyone feeling the excitement of the possibility I haven't let myself hope for. I can feel the energy flowing from everyone and it's heartwarming and invigorating.

Alice leaves the table and returns with a sword in its scabbard which has hung over the library fireplace mantle for at least fifty years. It belonged to Charlie's father who received it during the Civil War. I look up at Alice from my seat as she lays it on the table. "Sell."

"Alice, I have no clue as to the value of this sword. There were thousands, maybe millions of them. It may not have any value at all," I sputter, shocked she would ask me to do this. But then, I remind myself, I would get to see him again, maybe. My body starts to heat up and then I mentally shake myself away from the thought. Fantasy is not reality and I live in the real world.

Returning my look to her, I see a sparkle in her eyes which has been missing for ever so long. The one where she seems to know my hidden thoughts, and then she fully smiles for the first time in over a year and it's so beautiful. I actually get tears in my eyes as I stand up and hug her with all my might.

She whispers in my ear, "Just go, we're in for a change for the better, you'll see. Go tomorrow."

When we pull apart, we both have smiles. My Alice is back! _She's back, she's back, she's back,_ I chant to myself. Her eyes are finally filled with warmth and her smile is serene. _She's back!_

She pushes me into my chair and hands me the sword. I laugh with pure joy. I look at everyone around the table. "Are we really going to do this? Because if we are, I need to go to Charleston, to get us fuel and oil money."

"Just like President Franklin D. Roosevelt has spoken about, this is our New Deal. The 3R's: relief for us unemployed and poor, recovery of our own economy back to normal and reform of the financial system to prevent a repeat depression. Our very own, Relief, Recovery, and Reform program for the Swan Plantation," Emmett smiles as he quotes one of his favorite presidents.

The table erupts with booming laughter, squeals of joy and loud hurrahs.

H~~H

I have dream upon dream of Fern Green and this last one is the most vivid yet. I can feel his lips on mine, his hands roaming over my body, skin on skin, heat building as his hand is roaming lower. My hands are in his soft hair, then moving down his neck, over his bare shoulders and down his back over his warm firm muscles. I tell him I want him and he tells me he wants me too.

I feel a hand shaking my shoulder, but his one hand is on my breast and the other is moving lower still. Confused, I swat the hand away and vaguely feel the muscles of his back again but then he disappears altogether. The shaking of my shoulder continues and then I hear my name being called but it's not masculine and I finally grasp its Alice. I sit up abruptly, pushing my hair out of my face.

"Alice, what is it? Are you okay?" I mumble out.

"I'm fine, it's time to get up and as I went into the hall, I heard you moaning and I thought you were having a bad dream," she answers. I still and then I blush.

"But, now I'd say it wasn't a bad dream and I woke you up for nothing," she smirks at me.

Self-conscious, I look away from her and start to get up. "Don't be embarrassed Bella, please, we all have very intimate dreams. Mine is of a tall, curly blond haired man with cornflower blue eyes. I think, I saw at the funeral. It was probably my imagination but I think of him as my savior," she has a wistful quality to her voice.

I vaguely remember seeing someone that day also but he had dark hair as he stood in the shadows of the trees. I remember something else now.

"I didn't hear you last night. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you Alice," I whisper. I have been with her through every nightmare and now because of Fern Green, I failed her.

"Bella, _look at me_," she stresses and I do as she says. "I didn't have a nightmare last night," she smiles softly. At first, I'm confused as I continue looking at her, and then the meaning sinks in. I rise up on my knees and hug her.

"Alice, no nightmares, you slept peacefully, you slept," I babble, too happy to care.

"I'm good Bella, really good. I've never thanked you for always being there for me; sometimes, I didn't know anything but the darkness, but I always felt you giving me comfort. Thank you so much," she offers with a hitch in her voice.

Before I can even respond her demeanor changes and she demands eagerly, "Tell me about him."

I don't even need to ask who. She knows me to well. So I do, from his looks; to his voice, his brow, how rude I was, my failed bartering attempt and how I begged. Alice listens, never saying a word. When I'm finished, she looks at me smiling. "When you see him again today, you'll know."

"I'll know what?" I'm confused.

"That the feeling is mutual," she smiles her reply.

This makes me all kinds of twisted up inside; from anxious, to excited, to hopeful.

I hop out of bed, while Alice goes to my closet and pulls out my best green dress. Ironically, its fern green in color and I instantly see his eyes.

She lays it on the bed and walks to the door. As she grabs the knob to shut it, she winks and then the door is closed.

_My Alice is back!_

H~~H

Four hours later, Emmett pulls up in front of the Pawn Shop. He remembers exactly where it is. He smiles mischievously at me. "Do you want me to wait out here for you?" Being the mature woman I am—I stick my tongue out at him. He chuckles, and then asks again, "Seriously, do you want me to come in with you?"

"Yes, I do. Just in case I faint or something. I want you to be there," Sarcasm heavy in my voice as I get out of the car.

The bell announces our arrival and ignoring the new paintings which now hang on the wall, I look at the man behind the glass. His eyes lock with mine and I think I could have swooned at the feet of this handsome man. _What is happening to me?_

H~~H

**Edward**

I still can't get the girl out of my head. It's been a month and she still inhabits all my waking thoughts and haunts my nightly dreams.

When she first walked into the shop I try really hard not to pay attention to her. She's with a mountain of a man who could be her husband. She wore her hat low on her head. A few long tendrils of dark brown hair had escaped capture. Her lovely profile is a silhouette made for cameos. I covertly watch her reactions as she views one of my favorite paintings, which would soon be on its way to The Hague Museum. Then her attention turns to the clocks, also on their way to buyers, but it's her appreciation of the items that charms me.

I clear my throat, as I have a meeting with a potential buyer for the violin. Jasper spent over a year trying to find any history on the piece. He checked with authorities from the FBI to Scotland Yard to find out if one was reported stolen, but thankfully, nothing came from it. If all goes well, we should be able to sell it and I'll have enough money to compensate the Swan sisters.

When she turns to face me, I feel as if I'm in a hypnotic trance. It's as if I know those eyes, so beautiful, rich and warm in color, slightly hidden under her hat. For two women, to have those same sensual, soulful eyes surprises me, but here is her twin in living, breathing form. I watch her eyes as she stares at my bird's nest hair, and then they move to meet mine. She seems to find mine as fascinating as I find hers as we gaze at each other. This is a first; I'm used to flirting looks women coquettishly throw my way, but this is different. It's as if she's searching for something or found it or committing me to memory. I let out a soft sigh when her eyes reach my mouth. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until she finishes her inventory and her eyes return to mine once again. I can stare at her all day.

When we finally get down to business, she speaks in a low sultry voice. I'm extremely grateful there's a counter between the two of us, because my jeans are getting uncomfortably tight and this feeling hasn't happened in ages. I've lived a monistic life for the past year and a half. There have been plenty of women who've tried to change this fact, but after my encounter with Victoria, or for that matter, Tanya, I've sworn off women. I've focused all my attention on retribution. None of them made my blood flow freely as it does right now. _I need to calm the hell down!_

Chocolate, which I dubbed her, would do well in business. I think if she hadn't been so desperate for money, she would have walked out the door after my first offer. She's observant of the place cards and bold in her statement. I liked her assertiveness as she bargained. But her boldness soon evaporated, as I told her the truth about them already being sold. Her brows furrowed together to create a little v between them when she apologized and I wanted to smooth it and soothe the worry away from her features.

I knew the candlesticks were old and I could turn them. The maker mark was from Paul Revere's shop which put them around 150 years old. They had initials PR to GW engraved under the holders on a side edge. I'd let Jasper figure out the rest.

What I remember most, is the incandescent spark I felt, as it rushed through my system, when I touched her hand. I think she may have felt it too.

But, I have become a miserly man when it comes to purchasing items from those off the streets. I will give someone more than our competition, if I think an item has great potential to increase the bottom line. And even though I pay her twice what I would anyone else, I still feel remorse for not paying her what she asked for. She didn't try to flirt or use her womanly charms, which I know I would have easily succumbed to. Her sole mission was to gain money and it's exactly what she did.

When she left, gracing me with her beautiful smile, I was done for. I actually went into the back office; grabbed a stack of $10 bills, went to the front, locked up and tried to find her. For an hour I searched but couldn't find her or the big guy who would have been easy to spot. Maybe he's her brother, because he didn't admonish her while we gazed at each other.

Discouraged, I return to the shop to see Jasper behind the counter when I enter. He looks at me. "Hey, are you alright, Edward?" concern evident in his voice.

I simply nod my head, yes, but I'm really not.

"Mr. Mejia just left. It's a lucky thing I came back early from my scavenger hunt," he's happily smiling. Damn, she made me completely forget about my appointment. Well, I forgot, but it was her fault or because of her.

Running my hands over my face and then through my hair, I look at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry Jasper, how did it go?"

"It went fine, take it easy. He said he'll think about and come back by in a few weeks. I'm sure he'll make a counter offer, but it's to be expected." He smiles at me again, but can tell he doesn't have my full attention. "What's got you so rattled?"

I heave a sigh and tell him about my encounter with Chocolate. We walk into the back room and I show him the candlesticks. Jasper's excited and impressed but he would have liked to have read the journal for a bit more history. Then he looks back at me. "You call her Chocolate? You didn't get her name did you?" I shake my head. "No bill of sale?" Again, I just shake my head. How inept can I be? We always give a receipt! _I could have at least gotten her name!_

"When we sell this violin, we're going to need to see the Swan sisters immediately. Your guilt is starting to wear through that thin veneer of yours," he sighs. I just nod my head, yes, again in agreement, still thinking about Chocolate.

Jasper pulls out one of his books on American Presidents. After a few minutes of searching, he grins and looks at me. "Did you know, after the inauguration ceremony, which by the way Martha, his wife, didn't make it to, George Washington went to his hotel room, had dinner alone and went to bed?" He smirks.

This information finally grabs my attention away from her. "What, there wasn't a grand commemorative dinner or ball as they have now? Kings and Queens have celebrated their coronations for hundreds of years," I'm completely surprised.

He shakes his head and I'm amused. The first President of the United States celebrated a ground breaking, historic event by eating dinner alone.

Incredible!

H~~H

I dream of Bella. I'm looking at her photograph, her features shimmer and grow until she's full height and is now standing before me with Chocolate by her side. The visions swirl in and around each other until the two became one. I woke myself up with a small gasp, wondering if it could be possible, and then decide the odds are astronomical. It couldn't be true, but as I fall back to sleep, subconsciously I hope it is. Even if it means they're in dire need of money. I would hate to be this attracted to two different women.

H~~H

Hearing the bell, I look up from the inventory sheet I'm working on and immediately know it's her. _She's back! She's here! _

I see her lovely, thick, long dark brown hair, _finally_. She's wearing a simple styled green dress that reaches down to her knees. It's cut to show her hourglass figure of full breasts, small waist, and gently rounded hips. She's not wearing the current trend of hose or nylons, which is fine by me because I can see her tone creamy calves. But, it's her eyes, which once again hold me captive as she makes her way up to the counter.

"Hi," she greets, in her warm sultry voice I remember so well and my lower region is instantly up, alive and well.

"Hi, how are you?" I feel juvenile with my witty banter.

"I'm well, thank you, but I'm in need of your services," she boldly states. And my mind instantly careens to the various dreams I've had of servicing her well. I mentally chastise myself and then I remember I need her name.

"Well, I hope I'll be able to accomplish that, Miss…" I prod, noticing she isn't wearing a wedding band and there isn't a tan line, as if she took one off.

"Swan, Isabella Swan, and you are?" She responds politely, while I'm reeling with her name. _It's her! It's Bella!_

I hold out my hand, automatically answering, "Masen, Edward Masen. It's nice to meet you, Miss Swan." _It's really so nice to finally meet you!_

Her hand is soft, warm and sends the incandescent spark of desire racing through my body. I dislike the idea of needing to let it go. Pulling away reluctantly, her eyes tell me she regrets it too and I'm in heaven or hell. There is only one woman, and she is as captivating as I knew she would be when I first saw her photograph over a year and a half ago. But, I can't tell her my real name or I know who she is.

The big guy clears his throat, and I reluctantly break eye contact with her, to look at him. He has a knowing grin on his face, as he puts his hand out. "Emmett McCarty, I work for Miss Swan." I shake his hand, remember a long ago conversations with Charlie, about how knowledgeable he is and Charlie's hope for Emmett to stay on with them. Shaking his strong grip, I think how gratifying it is to know he's loyal to her.

I remind myself, I need to be professional, so I tilt my head towards him. "Mr. McCarty, how can I help you and Miss Swan today?"

Emmett tilts his head to Bella, and I happily return my gaze to her, as I wait for her answer. She looks to Emmett and reaches for the sack he's carrying. She pulls out a sabre in scabbard and lays it on the counter. I slide it through the window and pull the sabre out. There's an inscription on it and my heart starts pumping harder than it already is. This is what Jasper dreams of seeing. I sheath it and lay it back down on the counter.

"If you'll excuse me a moment, my business associate is in the back and this is his area of expertise," I explain, as I move towards the door.

They both nod their heads at me and I'm gone. I sprint a 5 yard dash, to Jasper, who's sitting at the desk. He looks up at me with his brows raised.

"She's back, she's back, Chocolate is back! Only it's not Chocolate, it's Miss Isabella Swan! It's her, Bella and she's here, out there!" I sputter out and point towards the front.

"Easy boy, calm down. So it really was, or is her," he's smiling, amused by my excitement.

"Yeah, and you don't want to wait a second more to see what she's brought in this time," I smirk back.

"What?" He's instantly alert.

I tilt my head towards the front and grin broadly. He knows not many things get me excited, so his curiosity is high.

I walk back through the door with Jasper following. "Jasper Whitlock, I would like you to meet Miss Isabella Swan and Mr. Emmett McCarty," I make the introductions, knowing Jasper will have to shake hands over the sabre, just to prolong his agony. He shakes hands with Bella first and she lightly gasps, as she shakes his hand, staring at _his_ looks. My eyes snap to hers, while she views Jaspers features. _I don't like this at all!_

"Are you okay, Miss Swan?" Jasper kindly questions. I'm wondering if I've already lost my chance to get to know her better.

"Yes, you remind me of someone my sister described as seeing before. It's nothing, really, Mr. Whitlock," she answers softly. The only time Alice saw Jasper was at the funeral. He said she looked lost and broken. But, she remembers him well enough to describe him? Well, this is interesting. I relax a little, feeling instantly better once Bella's eyes return to mine, with the same look of intrigue in her eyes.

Jasper having completed his introductions with Emmett, looks down at the scabbard. He looks back up to Bella, asking softly if he can touch it, she inclines her head. Jasper is like a kid at Christmastime. He looks the sabre over from tip to handle and then reads the presentation: "Col. Chas. M. Swan Jr., from a friend."

The blood seems to drain from his face, as he whispers with reverence, "Who was the friend?"

"According to the journal, it was President Lincoln," Bella quietly responds.

Jasper holds the sword as if it's the Holy Grail. On the opposite side there's a plate which reads: A Civil War Cavalry Officers Sabre presented to Charles Swan Jr., winner of the Congressional Medal of Honor.

"I must read the journal. Do you have it with you?" Jasper's excitement has taken over.

Bella sighs, "No, I'm sorry to say, I forgot it in my hurry to make it here early. We need to drive back home before it's too late."

"It's okay. I would really like to see the other journal also. I realize this is a bold request, but would you mind if I were to come for a visit to read them. I won't be in your way, I promise." Jasper practically begs.

"I think it would be just fine. Alice, my sister, will love talking to someone as interested in history and the journals as she is. Be warned though, Alice may talk your ear off," she replies with a fond smile.

Emmett snorts at the comment—which makes me wonder if she will or she won't.

"Will you be joining us, Mr. Masen?" Bella gazes up at me through her lowered, long thick lashes, shyly.

_Of course I am! Invitation or not, I am!_

Instead I return softly, "I would like to, very much, Miss Swan."

She blushes slightly, it's so charming, but then she looks down as she speaks. "We live on a plantation in Savannah, Georgia. It's only about three or four hours away." Then she returns her gaze to me with an intensity and determination. "The reason I'm looking to sell the sword, is because we need money for fuel and oil for the farm equipment. We're going to try to raise a crop this year with just those living on the property. How much are you willing to pay for it?" She explains in one breath.

The fact I'm responsible for her selling off her family heirlooms hits me hard. I'm the reason for this and she doesn't even know it. I can't speak as the guilt hits me harder than ever before.

Thankfully, Jasper rescues me. "Miss Swan, we'll give you $100 right now against the purchase of the sabre. You take it back home with you for now. I'll be able to give you an honest appraisal once I read the journals. If it's not enough money, tells us now and we'll give it to you."

Bella is at first stunned, and then she looks to Emmett. I can see he's already mentally calculating if it's enough. Emmett looks at me, then to Jasper. "That should get us what we need for now. When will you be coming?"

"Within the week, we have some business to take care of first, which will take a few days or more. How does that sound?" I reply instantly.

I look at Jasper and he nods in agreement. We need to sell the violin fast! I look back to Emmett as he nods, then to Bella. Another beautiful smile spreads across her lovely generous mouth and I can't help but smile back.

Jasper motions for Emmett to go over to the side panel, to let him into the back area. "I need you to write down directions and I can give you the money." Emmett looks at Bella, then to me and smiles knowingly. Jasper is trying to give me some time alone with Bella and I couldn't be more pleased.

"So, you're sure you have room and you don't mind me coming also?" I need to know, making sure I'm not reading her wrong.

"No, you're more than welcome to come. You can think of it as a working vacation. You and Jasper will have the house pretty much to yourselves with Alice and Mrs. Cope. The rest of us will be working in the fields," she replies with a light sparkling in her eyes, at the mention of the fields.

"Well, Jasper is the researcher, but I wouldn't mind trying my hand at working in the fields, if you can use an extra hand and don't think I'd be a burden," I respond. It's the truth. I always wanted to work on the Plantation.

A look of surprise and wonder crosses her beautiful features and she's glowing. _I did that!_ I have to catch my breath, at her look of sheer joy.

"I'd like it very much," she replies huskily.

"So would I, Miss Swan," I breathe out my reply. She is so captivating.

"Bella, please call me Bella. If we're going to be working together and living under the same roof, you'll find, we're very informal," she says cheekily.

"Well Bella, only if you call me Edward, since we'll be working together and living under the same roof," I repeat back with a grin. The idea of living in the same house sets my mind to flight. I'll need all the restraint I possess to keep my body in check.

Emmett and Jasper return to the front. Jasper walks over to Bella and begins to count the money. Bella stops him. "I trust you, Mr. Whitlock. Plus, we'll be seeing you soon, so if it's wrong you won't get dessert," she mock threatens him.

Emmett's face drains of a little color. "You don't want to be wrong. Alice makes the best desserts in the world. Take it from me when I've been on the wrong side of Bella or Alice. It's torture!" He gives a little shake of his big body and we all snicker at his expense.

"I'll have to remember that, don't get on Alice's bad side or no dessert, got it," Jasper laughs. "And I would appreciate it if you call me Jasper," he chuckles.

"Thank you, Jasper. And please call me Bella," she replies. Jasper smiles, as he salutes Bella and Emmett and returns to the back.

Through the window, I hand Bella the sabre and our hands touch briefly again. Energy surges through my veins. This time I know she feels it when she looks from our hands, then to my eyes. Curiosity and amazement are written in their depths, along with what I hope—_is more_.

With one last lingering smile, Bella and Emmett say their goodbyes. As I watch them leave, Jasper speaks from behind me, "Mr. Mejia better come by tomorrow like he said. We need to sell the violin. We don't have too much in inventory, do we?"

I turn to face him. "No, the paintings on the wall are due to leave today and tomorrow. The jewelry can be locked up in one of the safety deposit boxes. We need to ask the landlord if he wouldn't mind being on call, to let in those wanting to get into their boxes. Paying the rent in advance for the next couple months should make him amiable to the idea," I reply, running the list through my head, wondering if I'm missing anything.

"You have it all planned out, don't you," Jasper grins at me.

"You know I have Jasper. I've been planning this moment since the day after I was robbed," I return without hesitation.

"Yeah, you have. But, I don't think you were expecting the added bonus. You do realize, Bella is already smitten with you and I think you're right there with her," he's smiling, genuinely happy for me.

I couldn't deny it and I wouldn't. She has been the only vision I've seen in my dreams for the longest time. There's chemistry between us which is irrefutable. When I would see my parents in a loving embrace or catch them staring at one another, I was always envious. Now, I might have a chance to live that kind of emotion with someone who has captivated me from the moment I saw her in a photograph_. I want it. I want it all. I want it with Bella!_

I look at Jasper, "We have work to do, you know you want to taste the desserts from the lovely Alice," I quip.

He grins back, punches me lightly on the shoulder and we get to work.


	18. I Can't Hide Who I Am

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**My incredible beta is books-are-better. She is ever so busy and didn't have time to review, so any errors are mine. Well, all errors are always mine. She still deserves a shout out for all she's done. Her stories are based on The Hunger Games and are really good! Check them out! Seriously!**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. Oh, this story was mentioned on A Different Forest. I am so honored! Update two of four. By Saturday's posting most of my pmers should get what they've requested. At least-I hope. :)**

**Chapter 17**

**I Can't Hide Who I Am**

**Late-Spring - 1935**

**Edward**

Mr. Mejia has just left and I'm speechless. It's been two days since Bella and Emmett were here and everything is going better than I could have possibly hoped for. There are no longer any paintings hanging on the walls. All of them sold, picked up and heading to locations around the world.

Most of the jewelry has also been sold. Just a few pieces still remain and those will be kept in the vault.

Our landlord is pleased with his advance rent payment and has agreed to let in customers who rent boxes in the safe.

Our biggest concern was Mr. Mejia. He came in to discuss the price of the violin and offered a much lower price. We expected this would happen. Jasper calmly chuckled at him. "Mr. Mejia, show me where a Stradivarius has sold for that amount in the last fifty years. No, let's make it the last hundred and fifty years?" For Jasper to ask this question, I know it hasn't happen. Jasper is too diligent in his research to miss such an important fact.

Mr. Mejia shifts around in his chair and Jasper counters the offer with a shrug, "It's a once in a life time opportunity. Take it or leave it." The price Jasper quotes is still higher than we expect to sell it for. We figured Mr. Mejia would counter again but instead he accepts it. He's just left the shop, to go to his bank, to make the necessary arrangements. He'll be here first thing tomorrow morning with the funds.

I look up at Jasper who is pale and statue still. "Jasper, are you all right?" I'm seriously concerned for his welfare.

Jasper blinks a few times, shakes his head a few more times, clearing it and returns his eyes to mine. "You do realize we have just made over a quarter million dollars on a purchase of $25? With this kind of money; we could retire comfortably for the rest of our lives and never have to worry about Great Depressions, food lines, or sleeping in a bunk bed, in an office. I can't wrap my head around it. This is insane!"

I smile at my friend. He really is a true friend. For two men to share the same space, day in and day out, and not get frustrated at the lack of privacy is unique. I can't think of one acquaintance I've ever known, who I wouldn't have blown up at, after spending so much time together.

I now have more than enough money to pay back the Swan sisters, with interest! And still have enough to see me through for a couple of decades.

"Thank you Jasper," I'm trying to keep my emotions at bay. He raises his brows at me in question. "Thank you, for helping make this happen; for helping me get the money I needed. For believing me in the first place, when I was so scared, confused, lost and well, for putting up with me," I finished not happy I can't, for once, articulate all I want to say.

"Well then, thank you Edward. You helped make this happen. You believed in me as much I did you. I was a down and out drifter if you recall. No family or nickel to my name. I was scared too, wondering where my next meal was coming from. Maybe we should thank the waitress who was eyeing you up and down for our partnership?" he laughs, while finishing his last sentence. I laugh with him, forgetting about that little detail.

"Plus, if you remember correctly, I was at the cemetery with you and saw Alice and Bella. I knew right then, I was going to help them, with or without you," he adds.

"This is going to be interesting going to the Swan Plantation. You'll get to know Alice and, hopefully, I'll get to know Bella after she learns the truth," I muse out loud.

"Don't worry about it too much Edward. Everything will work out. I feel it and you know I've never been wrong," he reminds me with a smile.

H~~H

Mr. Mejia just left again. This time he didn't leave empty handed. Jasper and I sit at the table looking at the money, split up in front of us. What an amazing site this is. I'm so happy I could sing at the top of my lungs. Now, all there's left to do, is to explain to Bella about the past and who I really am. _I hope she takes is well._

H~~H

We passed the 'Welcome to Savannah' sign, just about fifteen minutes ago and I know we're close. I prepare myself mentally, for the possibility the Plantation may be run down. Jasper tells me to turn right at a fence post. I notice we're no longer on a thoroughfare but on a graveled private road. I slow the truck down as I take in my surroundings. I notice a tractor on both sides of us. One of the operators looks like it could be Emmett. They're plowing up the soil and the expanse of the fields is incredible. I remember Charlie mentioned he had a thousand plus acres but until you view it or try to, it's hard to fathom.

I continue driving up the road, until I see the massive white house in front of us. All of a sudden, I'm transported back to a little boy again, feeling the adrenalin rush through my veins. Seeing it, and being here, is like a dream come true. This is where I wanted to be. Jasper lets out a low whistle. "This is a lot nicer than I ever expected. And definitely better than the office/bedroom we're used to," he's unquestionably impressed with the view.

I pull up to the front side of the house and kill the engine. We both get out, stretching our legs after the long drive. I hear the front door open and out steps Bella dressed in a blue work shirt tucked into jeans and wearing boots. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, eyes warm and sparkling in the sun with a beautiful smile resting on her lips.

I don't know why, but suddenly it dawns me, Bella doesn't wear make-up. All this beauty is pure and natural. She's real. I gladly return her smile with one of my own. I don't notice anyone else but her, until Jasper's throat clearing breaks into my trance. I didn't even notice he stood right next to me. I look at him and he inclines his head towards the other ladies standing on the porch, all with smiles, looking from me to Bella.

Her cheeks blush a bit and _I'm pleased_.

Jasper and I walk to the bottom of the steps as Bella starts to speak. "Welcome to the Swan Plantation. Edward and Jasper, I would like to introduce you both to everyone." She turns to the ladies and gestures with her hand. "This is Mrs. Cope; she's been our housekeeper for years and is a surrogate mother to all of us." The elderly woman with a round happy face, smiles at us. "This is Leah Clearwater; a dear friend and sister to Alice and me." A young, pretty, petite dark hair, dark eyed young lady, smiles shyly and nods. "This is Rosalie Hale; also a dear friend and sister to Alice and me, and Emmett's girlfriend." A tall, very pretty blond with lovely blue eyes inspects us, and then seems to give her approval with a full smile.

"And lastly, this is my sister Alice." She's a beautiful, tiny, young woman with raven black hair and lovely blue eyes, I remember so well from the photograph. She comes up to me first and shakes my hand. "Welcome Edward, it's a pleasure to meet you," she greets me with a lovely lilt in her voice, and then gives me a wink and a wicked grin. I can't help but laugh and thank her.

Then she turns to Jasper. They simply stare at one another for a few moments before she remembers herself. "Welcome Jasper, I've been waiting to meet you."

Jasper continues to gaze at her for a few moments, then finally finds his voice, "The pleasure is all mine, Ma'am," with his southern drawl in full force.

I look at Bella and she returns it. We both simply smile at each other for a moment, as if sharing a secret knowledge of how Jasper and Alice will get along fine.

"Everyone, I would like you all to meet Edward Masen here," she moves her hand in my direction and I smile at the ladies. "Ladies, it's a pleasure," I respond with a nod to all of them.

"And this is Jasper Whitlock." She moves her hand towards him and he nods and smiles, "A great pleasure, indeed."

"Can we help you with your luggage while I show you to your rooms?" Bella graciously offers. Jasper and I both shake our heads, no. We head to the truck bed and I grab out my three pieces, while Jasper grabs his. As we head up the steps, I notice all the ladies, except for Bella and Alice, have already returned inside. Bella rests her hand on mine holding two of my bags and with her eyes begs to help. I want to keep her hand right there, feeling the energy surge, but I relinquish the smaller one to her.

As we enter the house I'm struck by the aromas filling the air. There's no perfume stifling it. Instead, I smell fresh baked bread, vanilla and cinnamon all mixed together; it's a warm, inviting and comforting fragrance.

"I'll show you around the house after we get you settled in," Bella promises, leading me up the stairs with Jasper and Alice following behind. I enjoy this new view of Bella, clad in jeans with her curved, firm backside swaying gently and her slim toned legs as she climbs the stairs. Once she reaches the landing, she turns slightly, catching where my eyes have been. She blushes lightly and then proceeds to point out a where Jasper will be staying: a bathroom, Alice's room, a sitting room, her room, another bathroom and then my room. My mind is rejoicing at finding my room is next to hers. _I wonder if there's a connecting door._

She opens the door to a well-appointed and cozy room, decorated in neutral colors. A large bed with a comforter and quilt in various shades of blue cover it. The bed looks to be about four times the size of my twin and it's very appealing. Bella sets my bag on the bed and I follow suit with the other two. Her eyes taking inventory of the room. Viewing the two overstuffed chairs, angled with a coffee table in between, in front of the fireplace. Then to the highboy dresser and closet area. She turns back to me. "If you need anything, just ask and we'll do our best to make you comfortable."

"Bella, this is more than I expected. You don't need to put yourself out for me. If anything, I hope to be a help and not a guest," I remind her of our previous conversation. She smiles up at me. We're so close I can feel the warmth of her body and I want to touch her, hold her… She gasps softly, and I wonder if my mouth betrayed me and I spoke out loud.

"I'll let you get settled in. When you're ready, come downstairs. We'll be eating in about an hour," her sultry voice a whisper and turns towards the door.

Once there, she looks back at me. "Oh, and Edward, I'm really glad you're here," and walks out the door closing it quietly behind her. I didn't even get the chance to say that I'm really glad to be here too. I am. _I really am!_

I settle in. Storing my clothes in the dresser and hanging some shirts in the closet. The ones Renee made I hang behind my coat. I'll show them to Bella later, maybe, and then use them. My second piece of luggage holds the funds for the Swan sisters. Worst case scenario, if Bella asks me to leave after I tell her my story, they'll find it here in the closet. The smallest bag holds my shaving kit and such, plus extra funds I may need having left the balance in my personal safety deposit box.

When I'm done, I head out of the room towards the stairs. As I pass Bella's room, I hear low laughter and giggling, from what she said was a sitting room. I can tell the laugh belongs to Bella, it's husky and low. The giggle reminds me of Alice's lighter tone. It puts a smile on my face, as I hope they're excited with Jasper and I being here, as much as we are.

I pass the room as Jasper is just coming out of his. We meet at the top of the stairs, as the door to the sitting room opens, where Bella and Alice exit from the room. When they see us, both wear happy smiles.

"Are you all settled in?" Bella asks shyly.

"I am, thank you again, Bella," I smile at her.

"And you Jasper? Everything to your liking," questions Alice with a flirting tone.

"Very much so, Alice," Jasper replies grinning widely.

"Then let's show you around," Alice smiles playfully, wrapping an arm around Jaspers, taking the lead down the stairs.

"Shall we," I offer, turning my elbow out so she'll take my arm. Her answer is a beautiful smile and her warm arm embracing mine. Again, with the heat of her body so close to mine, the energy flowing through me with her touch, I'm in both heaven and hell. Heaven: because I'm here, she's here, feeling her, seeing her. Hell: because my body is going to betray me soon and, I need to tell her the truth about me, which means I may never have heaven again. The war continues to rage in my head.

As we stroll down the stairs, Bella laughs quietly to herself, and then looks up at me with mischief in her eyes. "I will lay you odds; it will be days before Jasper gets the grand tour of the house or the property." I arc a brow at her, trying to figure out where she's going with her statement.

Her grin widens, if possible. "Alice has found someone as interested in history, heirlooms and objects of art, as she is. I bet they don't leave the library for days," she laughs out loud.

I chuckle with her. "That's a bet I will not take. Knowing Jasper as I do, it'll be paradise to him. And with Alice as interested as he is in such things, it's perfect."

She glances at me through her long thick eyelashes. "It is perfect, isn't it?" Right now staring into her beautiful eyes; I want to turn her into my arms, hold her tight and kiss her. Hard! She unravels me. I can't speak because my voice will betray me, so all I do is nod in agreement.

H~~H

Lying here in bed, reviewing the day, my thoughts are a mixture of; lust, wonderment, pride, enlightenment, devastation and anxiousness.

Bella, still on my arm, showed me around the house pointing out various rooms with doors closed, as Emmett and Rosalie's, the office and the library. With the laughing from within, we didn't want to disturb Jasper and Alice. Besides, I wanted to enjoy this time alone with Bella.

We walk through the parlor, pass the dining room and into the kitchen. Mrs. Cope is at the stove cooking what looks to be a stew and it smells delicious. Leah is at a table to the side rolling out dough with a sheet already filled with biscuits ready for baking. Rosalie is making a casserole of some sort at another table. With a nod of my head to them, and smiles returned, we make our way to the back porch and stop.

Off to the side is a well. A bucket hangs from a rope on a cross member looking ready for use. Bella explains how you never know when a pipe might break, so they maintain it. She points to a little house to the other side, with smoke curling from a chimney, calling it the Smoke House, currently curing ham and bacon. The scent of the ham, mixed with the smoke in the open air, is very appetizing.

In front of us is a large garden, which has herbs growing along the perimeter and neat rows of new growth vegetables. Bella, releasing my arm walks into the garden, spotting what must be weeds as she pulls them out while scanning for more, I suspect. She then heads over to another row which must have needed the soil more compacted, because she bends over, giving me a fine view, which causes my blood to rush, as she starts pushing the soil together. She stands up, wiping one hand over her jeans cleaning it off, switching the weeds to the clean hand and wipes off the other one.

She turns around, looks at me, then down to her now dirt stained jeans and flushes. She looks back up at me in earnest. "This is the family garden I take care of. I love working with my hands in the soil. To feel the earth, to nurture and watch the plants grow. It sustains us and me," her voice husky, as she points to the dirt on her jeans finishing her thoughts with, "This is me."

This girl is unlike any female I've ever met. She doesn't hide behind make-up or expensive clothing and jewelry. She doesn't need all the trappings of a wealthy man or what his name would gain her, so she can walk with high society. She's earthy; honest, sensual, willing and able to work for her family needs. She perfect! She's Bella. _And I'm enthralled._

I'm barely able to speak, over the pounding of my heart, so caught up in my enchantment. "Show me." And she does with pride. Naming the rows of plants and which are used for canning, etc. It's an education and fascinating, watching her eyes light up as she speaks her passion.

She points out the Carriage House, and as we're about to walk over there, Mrs. Cope calls out, "Dinner is ready."

H~~H

The food is just as delicious as it smelled. It's been forever since I've had a home cooked meal. Jasper and I can't stop complimenting Mrs. Cope, Leah and Rosalie. All are very pleased. Jasper and I are introduced to Seth, Leah's brother who was on the other tractor. He's easy to talk with. I like him right away. We reacquaint ourselves with Emmett. For such a large man, he's gentle in nature but has a wicked sense of humor.

The conversation morphs into the reason why Bella needed to sell their family heirlooms in the first place. The talk starts with Seth and Leah losing their father; then losing their welcome on a Mister Black's property, to Charlie and Renee's death, Rosalie's disastrous marriage, learning of the fire in the office, thereby losing their contact information with the Cullen's, the Black's marriage proposition, Emmett's father passing, to the property taxes and another marriage proposal.

My head is spinning at all I've learned from these young people and what they've endured in so short of time. And I'm partly to blame. The guilt washes over me anew.

After dinner everyone clears the table, which is a novelty for me. Growing up, the housekeepers took care of it, and Jasper and I have always eaten out. But, I notice no one or nothing in this household is above or below ones station. They work as a tight knit unit or a well-oiled machine and their welcome makes me feel as if I'm a part of it.

We all gather in the parlor, relaxing and listening to music on the radio. Bella is on one side of me with Rosalie on the other and Emmett next to her sharing a divan. My arm is slung over the back of the divan but I want to wrap it around Bella and just hold her. Conversation is light with talk of music. Emmett and Seth convince Alice and Bella to play a song or two for us. They respond with, "Only if you'll play also." The four head up to Alice and Bella's sitting room to pick out their instruments.

I miss Bella's warmth immediately. Rosalie leans into my shoulder, speaking quietly, for me alone. "You're a man of mystery aren't you, _Mr. Masen?"_ She stresses my last name.

I raise a brow at her, trying to understand what she means or what I did.

"You wear your emotions on your sleeve, you know," she remarks gently. I thought she was meaning my infatuation with Bella, but instead she continues on, "The sadness in your eyes when Bella spoke about her parents. It was as if you knew them. Instead of someone hearing the story for the first time." I think, I pale.

She nods her head at my reaction. "When the fire was recounted, regarding the lost correspondence to the Cullens, you looked ill, like you do right now," she observes, her eyes continually watching mine. I probably look worse, because she knows who I am. _It's evident!_

"I don't know what your secret is but you need to tell her. She'll understand. She's the most honest and compassionate of us all. I've never seen her more alive than she is right now. And you're the reason. She's never been attracted to any of the boys around her. She's never even been kissed. We all can see the attraction you both have for one another and we all approve. But don't hurt her with lies, she deserves the truth of who you really are, _Mr. Cullen_," she finishes quietly, as Bella and the rest come back into the parlor.

_I'm speechless!_

I don't even attempt to deny it. She read me to well and spoke the truth. I know I need to talk with Bella but I need to get my courage up first. I look back at Rosalie and incline my head slightly, letting her know I heard her and it will be done. A brilliant smile spreads across her face and it gives me comfort and hope.

The rest of the evening flies by too quickly. Bella's singing voice is as sultry as her speaking voice, dancing around my skin. I watch her play first the guitar, then the violin in classic style and then switching up to hillbilly fashion. She's talented in so many ways. They all are, but my eyes are always on Bella.

At evenings end, good nights are said, as Seth and Leah take off for their house and everyone leaves for their rooms. I follow Bella around the house, as she turns off lights and locks doors. Involuntarily my hand takes hers, as we start up the stairs. I squeeze hers gently and she returns it.

I walk her to her bedroom door. "Thank you for today, Bella. The food, the music, the stories and feeling so welcomed. I enjoy being here."

"You're more than welcome. It's nice having you here, I glad you came," she smiles up at me. I want so much to kiss her but Rosalie's words come racing into my mind and I can't. _It's so frustrating!_

"Good night, see you in the morning," I whisper, as I release her hand.

"Good night," she whispers back, as a look of sadness fills her eyes.

I turn and came in here were sleep has eluded me ever since. The one thing that continues to bother me is that my parents never wrote to Bella and Alice. Surely there would have been the monthly letters. I know my mom wrote to Renee regularly. My dad would have written to Charlie at least about business. I know Charlie and Renee were my parent's best friends. And if they heard the tragic news, they would have written to Bella and Alice with condolences and offers of help. I know they would have, even with me missing, it wouldn't have stopped them. They would even have written asking about me.

_Something is very wrong here._

H~~H

Waking up the next morning, I notice the room is brightly lit with sunlight. After struggling to get to sleep last night, I must have slept in. I practically jump out of bed; get dressed, I bring my shaving kit into the bathroom, get cleaned up, and go back into my room, put on my boots, and then race downstairs.

The house is quite as I head into the kitchen. I can smell bacon and my stomach growls. I think Mrs. Cope hears it too, because she turns, with a smile on her face from the sink washing dishes. "Good Morning, Edward."

"Good Morning, Mrs. Cope. Where is everyone?" I'm looking around and out the windows.

"Oh, they were up and out of here hours ago. Well, except for Alice and Jasper. They're hold up in the library, I imagine," she laughs, smiling again.

"I can't believe I slept in so late, so much for helping out," I grumble to myself.

Mrs. Cope must have heard me though. "You didn't sleep well? Was the bed uncomfortable?" Concern laced in her tone.

"No, the bed's perfect. I just have a lot on my mind," I shrug my shoulders.

"Would you like some breakfast?" she changes the subject and I'm grateful.

"If it isn't any trouble, I'd appreciate it. I _will_ get up earlier tomorrow," I promise with chagrin.

She tilts her head over to the work table and I sit on a stool. Mrs. Cope is efficient as she scrambles up eggs and places warm rashers of bacon and biscuits on a plate. She places creamy butter and jams on the table and returns to the eggs. Plating the eggs, reaching for silverware and a napkin, she sets it all in front of me.

I practically inhale my breakfast, it's so good. The jam is wonderful, even the butter is flavorful. While I'm eating Mrs. Cope comes and sits next to me. "So what had you tossing and turning last night?" she curiously enquires.

"Various reasons, but I'll figure it out," I try to evade her question.

Mrs. Cope, tsk's at me. "Well, it probably has something to do with the conversation at the table last night, I would imagine," she slyly looks at me.

I just stare at her wondering what she knows. Did Rosalie tell her? She didn't seem the type who would and I acknowledged that I would talk to Bella.

Mrs. Cope starts laughing lightly at my confused expression. "You forgot me, did you, son? Well, I never forgot about the rooster in my biggest stock pot. No, it's a memory that will stay with me forever," she's still grinning at me.

Of course, how could I have forgotten? Mrs. Cope was here when I came to visit the first time. I don't know what to say, so I tell her the truth, "Mrs. Cope, there's a reason for the name change and I promise you, you will hear the whole story, but I want to tell it to Bella first," I silently beg her with my eyes, to not delve further.

She thinks about what I asked, for a few moments and agrees with a nod. "I liked your parents when I met them and I'm sure they raised a good son. So I'll wait, but not too long. We don't keep secrets in this house. It can cause dissention," she firmly admonishes.

"I swear, today or tomorrow at the latest," I reassure her.

H~~H

After breakfast, I check in with Jasper, who is knee deep in journals with Alice. The excitement and happiness in their eyes lets me know they're getting along quite well.

I walk out onto the veranda. Emmett is close by on a tractor, tilling the soil and ready to turn back down the next row. I wave; he puts the tractor in neutral, hopping out of the cab and walks over to me.

"Good Morning, lazybones," he chuckles.

"Good Morning. Is there anything I can do to help?" I ignore the jab.

"As a matter of fact, there is. If you could till for me I can get moving on the trenches. We're already late on planting as it is," he looks at all the acreage and work ahead.

"I'm sure I can handle the tractor. It's not much different than a truck is it?"

He shakes his head, no, and then points to the large area he needs to be worked.

Then curiosity hits me. "Hey Emmett, how did they know when to plant before calendars? Watching the stars, the moon, marking the hours in a day?"

He thinks for a moment. "Well, one old fashion way involves the farmer sitting down on the bare ground for about five minutes, then getting up and feeling the back of his pants. If the back was dry and warm, he begins planting," he answers with a shrug of his shoulders.

And I laugh. _It's so simple._


	19. She Sets My Blood on Fire

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**This chapter was preread by Siobhan Masen and books-are-better. Thank you both so much for your nods of approval. It was not betaed(?) so all errors are mine.**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. Update three of four. By Saturday's posting most of my pmers should get what they've requested. At least-I hope. :)**

**Chapter 18**

**She Sets My Blood on Fire**

**Last Spring - 1935**

**Bella**

I remember a conversation Alice and I had with Renee when we were about 14 and 15 years old. It was a warm September evening and we were sitting on the porch swing on the veranda. We could see Charlie in the field speaking with one of the sharecropper's; explaining his procedures in harvesting. I look at Renee, who's watching Charlie, with what can only be described as yearning in her eyes.

"Mom is everything all right?" I'm puzzled by her look.

"What makes you think something's wrong Bella?" she looks bewildered by my question.

"Well, you're looking at Dad with such, I don't know, longing in your eyes, like you miss him or something and he's right there," I point towards him.

Renee returns her gaze to look at Charlie and smiles. She laughs softly for a few moments. "Longing is a good word for what I'm feeling right now."

Alice and I are now both confused as we look at her.

"I think you're both old enough for a little conversation. We've talked about how babies are made in the general scheme of life. But, what you don't know is, there are three different ways a woman can share her body with a man," finally, returning her gaze to us.

Alice and I both flush at that thought. We were given the birds and the bees talk years ago.

"The first you both know about. Mating, for the sole purpose of procreation," she continues.

"It's a means to an end," I remember her saying. She nods her head.

"But there are two other ways," she explains. "There will come a time when you want to share your body with the man you love. It's the very essence of love. It feels as if your two bodies become one in pure joy and happiness. Some even consider it a religious experience because it's so powerful.

Then there is the sharing of your body with passion. It doesn't require love, but, if you have love then the desire is overwhelming. You need to touch and give pleasure to each other. It can be consuming, the yearning both bodies demand. Plain and simple—it's called lust," she has that far off look again as she looks at Charlie.

Charlie looks over to us, as if feeling eyes upon him, and then his eyes still as they meet Renee's. A slow smile starts to spread across his face as he inclines his head slightly, silently agreeing with what Renee's eyes are conveying.

"And if you're lucky, you'll celebrate the pleasure of the combination of all three," Renee whispers under her breath and then she smiles a wicked grin back at him.

H~~H

As I remember this conversation, I now understand what it is I feel racing through my body every time I touch or look at Edward. He's been here three days, but the growing passion I feel for him is overwhelming and indescribable. I have never felt this type of hunger, this need or this desire. It's consuming my every waking thoughts and appearing in all my dreams.

But it's not only the yearning I want. I want to spend my every second with him; to see his easy smiles and his lively eyes, to watch his mouth move as he speaks and laughs. Yet, when watching him as he does those exact things, I've had to physically remove myself from the room for fear I'll embarrass myself by placing a kiss on his lips. And then I visualize his lips, moving lower, and then lower still. All these sensations are generating individual pleasure points, of want and need throughout my heart and body, combining to create a fiery inferno, waiting to explode.

Right now, watching him work in the fields, wearing a t-shirt which clings to the form of his lean muscles from his sweat is driving me insane.

Emmett and Seth had given both Edward and Jasper a couple to wear, and I'm both thankful and frustrated they have.

Edward usually wears undershirts and was curious about the design. Alice laughed, as she explained how a farmer friend of the family fought in the Spanish American War in the late 1800's. The US Navy gave each sailor a shirt cut like a T, that was a slip-on with no buttons and they became known as crew necked t-shirts. When he returned, after the war, he begged his mom to make more. Soon, all the men and sometimes even women wear them.

Wearing the t-shirt, perspiration on his arms, shimmering and shooting sparks of light from the warm afternoon sun, has me entranced. I'm tired of fighting these feelings. I want to feel this passion come to life. I want it with him and I can only hope he feels the same.

H~~H

**Edward**

After spending a full day in the fields; I'm tired, sweaty and hungry. On the plus side, I'm finding this way of life rewarding. It isn't the fact that in a small way, I'm repaying a debt to the Swan sister's that they know nothing about. The hard work is satisfying. It's more than the sowing of the seed; the hoeing, and the physical working of the land. It's as if the land is welcoming me to it and telling me to stay.

For years, I only expected to work a regular job, enclosed in an office, behind a desk and then go home. It definitely didn't appeal to me anymore. _This did_. Learning the art of farming, using both head and body, is very rewarding.

I see Jasper, Seth and Emmett each coming in from where they've been working and we all meet up on the veranda. From here, we can smell whatever the girls are cooking for supper. We break out in wide grins. It smells incredible.

Instead of going in the front, we go around to the back porch where there are wash clothes, soap, water and clean shirts, waiting for us to clean up before supper. Playing around after cleaning up, Emmett switches shirts with Jasper. Emmett's t-shirt hangs loosely on Jasper's frame and Jasper's is stretched so tight on Emmett, it looks as if his circulation is being cut off.

Rosalie comes in at this point and seems to enjoy this new look on Emmett. Jasper demands his shirt back, and after much ribbing from Emmett they swap shirts.

Dinner is amazing as usual. These women know how to cook. Not trying to sound pretentious, but I have I dined at some of the finest restaurants around the world. I know food, but this is different. Maybe it's the long day of working in the fields that make me appreciate it the more. Maybe it's the people around the table and the conversations. Maybe it's the feeling of family and the feeling of being home. Maybe it's just Bella. Whatever the reasons, the food is delicious.

One of the steers had been butchered by Emmett the day before and Bella made barbecued ribs. The meat literally melted from the bone and into my mouth. There's a casserole with green beans in it which Rosalie made. Fresh made bread with actual garlic cooked in it from Leah. Bella, I learn, made the butter and cheese herself. I'm in awe of this beautiful girl.

I've never met a girl who would ever attempt such labors. After such a wonderful meal, Alice brings in a peach pie made from peaches they had canned last year. I'm full and content.

Mrs. Cope compliments the girls on dinner, and then tells Jasper and I, how Bella and Alice have been cooking and baking since they were four years old. Remarkable!

They both blush but give back as good as they get, explaining that between their Grandmother Brandon and Mrs. Cope, how could they not, since they learned from the best. Mrs. Cope blushes sweetly.

The girls suggest the men go and shower while they clean up. I like this idea, since I have about half an acre of dirt on me.

With my shower complete, my stomach full and my muscles aching, the bed looks very inviting. Only wearing a clean pair of pants, I stretched out on my stomach with my head on the pillow and my arms folded above my head. I'm thankful the bed seems to be custom made because while stretching out my 6'2" frame, my feet don't hang off it, a very rare feat.

Groaning a little as I stretch even more, trying to relieve the minor aches in my muscles, I hear the door open. I look over and see Bella standing in the doorway, in a blue bath robe that has two strings cinched under her full breasts, tied in a bow in the center, covering a night shift. In one hand, she's holding what appears to be a jar of lotion.

"Bella," I say, as I nervously start to move off the bed, "I didn't know you were up here."

"Don't move," Bella holds up a hand to stop my movements. She blushes and then continues, "I know you're not used to this kind of work and your muscles must be sore. So, I thought you might like a back rub. Renee used to give them to Charlie all the time."

To say I'm delightfully surprised by her offer, is a given. Thinking of her hands on me, when I've thought of nothing but my hands on her for months in my dreams, what I want to say is, "Hell yes!" What comes out is, "Are you sure? You don't have to, you know." Silently chanting—_please, please, please!_

The hesitant look she gives me, makes me feel like I've kicked her puppy. I want to kick my own ass for it.

Luckily for me, she regains her confidence. "I may not be good at it, but I'd really like to try, especially with all the work you've been doing," she offers quietly.

"I'd really like you to try too, because my back can use any relief," I happily admit, grinning at her and she smiles back.

I stretch back onto my stomach, hugging the pillow and resting my head on it, as my eyes close. She shuts the door and walks over to the bed with barely a sound. I don't feel the bed move after a few moments pass, so I open my eyes slightly, to look at her. She's looking at my back, then the bed, then to my ass, then up to my back again. Her brows are furrowed with a confused look in her eyes.

"Having second thoughts," I wonder out loud. _Please don't change your mind, please don't, please don't._

"No, no that's not it. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to do this," she murmurs, slowly sweeping her eyes from the top of my head resting on the pillow, to my stretched out body, down to my toes, and then back up again. _I really like her eyes on me._

I laugh nervously because she is both so alluring and so innocent. I need to remind myself—this is only a back massage and nothing more.

"How about this, why don't you sit on my backside, it's easier to reach my shoulders?" I suggest.

At first, she looks hesitant, and then a sly little smile lights the corner of her lips and her eyes glow, as the idea set in. If I wasn't mistaken, and I really hope I'm not, I think she's looking forward to being this close and intimate with me. I close my eyes once more. I feel the movement of the bed and then her weight as she settles on my ass. She hasn't even started the massage yet and already it feels good as she wiggles a little, getting comfortable. Although, now I have a different muscle I need to worry about that's getting tight.

Once she's steady, I hear her open the jar and rub her hands together, warming up the lotion. When she put her hands on my shoulders and squeezes, I think I've died and gone to heaven. She has good strong, yet gentle, soft hands and she knows how to work the muscles. I groan with contentment and not just from her hands. Every time she pushes her hands up my back, she shifts her weight on my ass. It's as if she's massaging that little hidden pleasure spot of hers, while she massages me. That thought makes me groan a little louder than necessary.

After about twenty minutes of pure bliss, she murmurs quietly, "Do you want me to rub your chest and stomach?"

I start to turn, she lifts up to her knees so I can finish turning between her legs all the way over, and I suddenly realize my mistake. When she sits back down she's sitting right _there_. She must feel my ever growing length, which I now have no control over. I look up at her and she seems bemused. Once again, she wiggles back and forth, creating even more of a problem for me.

I immediately sit up, grab her by the waist and place her further down on my thighs, since she's still straddling my legs. I can only mumble, "Sorry about that."

We're almost nose to nose in this position as I look into her eyes, trying to gauge if I have made her uncomfortable. Instead, I find Bella staring at my mouth. The next thing I know is her mouth is closing in on mine. Those soft full lips, I've imagined kissing from the first time I saw her in the photograph, are right where I want them to be. It's a sweet kiss, and I remember what Rosalie said about her never being kissed. I'm her first and the thought brings me great pleasure.

I gently start adding pressure and she responds back with the same. I bring my hands up to cradle her face and tilt her head as she's raises her hands to rest on my shoulders. I pull away slightly and then slowly use my tongue to gently stroke her bottom lip. She responds by opening hers a little. I stroke her lip again, gently bite it, then I stroke it again to soothe the sting of the bite.

She gasps softly, and presses her lips to mine again with more pressure, her mouth still slightly open. This time she strokes my lower lip, tasting me again and again. Then I feel her tongue touch mine and I have to use every ounce of self-control not throw her down on the bed and have my way with her.

She's a seductress and I need to stop this before it goes too far. I once again pull her face from mine, but this time further away to look at her closed eyes. She is so beautiful, with her slightly flushed cheeks and red moist lips. She slowly opens those warm sensual, soulful eyes of hers and stares into mine. I can get lost looking into her eyes, but I've decided now is the time I need to focus.

She moves to give me another kiss, however I hold her back. "Bella, we need to stop," I whisper gently.

She pulls back, looking down embarrassed, putting her hands on mine to release them from her face. "I'm sorry. That was forward and inappropriate of me. I'm so sorry."

I use my hands to make her look back up at me. "Bella, there is nothing more I would like to do than to continue to kiss you. It's not why we have to stop." I inhale then exhale slowly, "I need to tell you something important. Once you hear it, you may ask me to leave. Just so you know, if you do, I'll understand."

I feel her stiffen, and can only imagine what's going through her mind. I grab her by the waist and lift her off me and place her in the middle of the bed. "Why don't you sit here and let me tell you a story."

I run my hands over my face a couple of times and then through my hair trying to steel myself for the confession I need to make. I turn and sit Indian style facing her. I want to touch her or hold her hands, but instead I clasp my hands in my lap. Again, I need to take deep cleansing breaths for courage. I hope I can explain this well enough so I don't lose her.

I blow out one last breath and begin, "First of all, I need to tell you, I've lied to you, only once, but, it was a lie none the less." I look at her face and I can tell she's weary about what's coming. I don't blame her.

I begin again looking her in the eyes, "My name's not Edward Masen. It's Edward Cullen." I see the instant recognition of the name.

"I don't understand why you would lie about your name?" She asks confused.

"I know, but you will in a few minutes." She nods her head for me to go on.

"I came here to the States with your parents. I had been learning the business from my father, Carlisle, to eventually take over from him someday, for his inevitable retirement. After we docked, I encouraged your parents to go ahead without me, so they could have a private family reunion with you and Alice without me being in the way. They were concerned about the letter they received from you at Christmastime. They felt as if you weren't telling them something." She nods her head, knowing exactly how they would be concerned.

I continue, "I went to an Inn, where the front desk girl was mentioning the men of the Cullen ship. Not wanting her to know who I was, I registered under the name of Masen."

I gazed off over Bella's shoulder out the window, remembering my actions so clearly on that night long ago and continue, "Later that evening, I met a woman in a bar and we hit it off. We talked and had a few drinks, when all of a sudden I felt very drunk. She teased me about not being able to hold my liquor and helped me when I stood and was off balance.

I was so dizzy, and I couldn't figure out how I could be so drunk after only two drinks. The Inn where I was staying was across the street from the bar. She helped me to my room and pushed me on the bed. Then I heard a man's voice. I try to get up when I realize he was searching for my money. The man hits me in the jaw a couple of times and in the stomach I think. That's all I remember." Bella gasps and places her hand over her mouth.

I nod and continue, "I woke up the next evening sick to my stomach and head throbbing. I was unconscious nearly twenty hours. Once I cleared my head, I realized my room had been ransacked. Pieces of the prior evening started fitting together; your parents going home, the woman, the drinks and the man.

I realized they took the funds your parents had entrusted to me from the sale of the cotton. I was devastated. I was embarrassed. You can't imagine how ashamed and disgusted I felt."

I look back to her face, waiting to see the censor in her features, but I don't find it. Instead, I see understanding and compassion.

It's as if she knows the rest of my confession before I even get it out, yet I still feel compelled to speak it aloud, so I look out the window again.

"I made my way downstairs to get some food in my stomach and to try to think about what to do, when I heard talk of a double murder." I look back at Bella and she has tears silently slipping down her cheeks. I want to wipe them away and give her comfort, but I'm afraid of what her reaction might be.

So I continue on. "When I heard their names, I felt it was entirely my fault. Had I been with them, they could still be alive. I could have helped them. Your money wouldn't have been stolen." My eyes are blurry with my own tears as I wipe at them, saying, "I'm so sorry, so very sorry. I should have been there for them."

The next thing I know, two warm arms are hugging me and giving me comfort. I immediately hug her back and we simply hold on to one another for a bit letting the emotions have their way.

"I need to get this all out." I whisper, as I pull back from her comfort. I tentatively reach out to wipe the tears from her face. I'm humbled when she doesn't recoil at my touch. She is one of the gentlest of people I've ever met. "I was at the funeral."

She looks confused at first, but then a small smile is on her lips. "It was you," she whispers.

"I couldn't let you know I was there. I knew the investigators were there, they actually sat next to me the morning before, talking about it and feeling as guilty as I did, I couldn't be out in the open. I didn't think anyone saw me, but I guess I was wrong." I nod to her, letting her know I heard her comment. "I had to show my respects for your parents. They were both such wonderful people to me. It's understandable why my parents loved them so much and kept up their years of friendship.

I haven't even contacted my parents to let them know what happened or if I was all right. I kept the name change. I didn't want them to find me until I could make restitution to you both. I needed to redeem myself to you, Alice, my parents and most of all to Charlie and Renee, which I've done.

I arrived the day before the funeral and wandered to the other side of Savannah trying to figure out what I was going to do and met Jasper. He helped me clear my head and we hit on a plan to earn the money I lost. We went to Charleston and founded the Pawn Shop. It wasn't until you came in the second time that I figured out who you were. You know the rest from there." I search her face as I feel the need to say one last time, "I'm so sorry."

Bella looks at me and once again I feel as if her eyes are looking into my soul and I'm drowning. I feel like a criminal waiting for the death sentence. I deserve it.

Instead of convicting me, she once again hugs me, softly whispering, "It wasn't your fault. You were as much of a victim as my parents were. You could have been killed alongside them had you decided to come home with them. "

I hug her back and shiver at her words. To have possibly been killed and never had the privilege to meet her—is inconceivable. I'm in love with this girl. I feel it in my very soul.

She's on her knees as she hugs me, then she pulls away from my embrace and we're once again eye to eye. She puts both her hands on my face and stares into my eyes. Hers, still shimmer with the remnants of tears, but they now contain an intensity that I can't define. "Thank you for telling me what happened; that you cared for my parents and were concerned for Alice and me. It makes it easier to ask you a question," she says huskily.

"What's that?" I whisper.

"Can I kiss you again?" she whispers back.

My answer is to put my hands behind her back, into her soft hair and to bring her lips to mine. She moves her hands to the back of my head sliding her fingers into my hair, lightly grasping and massaging at the same time. Between the heat of her lips and the touch of her hands, I now know what paradise is and I sigh in joy. When I slip my tongue into her mouth, her moan radiates from my mouth, through my skin and down to my groin. It's my turn to groan. She then becomes adventurous entering my mouth with her tongue. I suck on it for a moment enjoying the taste and texture.

She releases one of her hands from my hair, much to my disappointment, but then she slides it lightly down my neck, up my jaw, down my throat until it's moving over my chest. Oh, it feels so good. I want to do the same but I don't want to push my luck. I break our kiss with difficulty.

"Bella, we need to stop or I'm afraid I won't and I'm not sure that that's what you want." I groan.

She opens her eyes with undisguised desire staring back at me. "I want this, Edward, very much. You make me feel things I've never felt before. I want to know what passion feels like. I want to feel it with you." Her voice is seductively soft, yet it contains conviction as I've never heard before.

Her honesty ignites an explosion in my heart. She isn't afraid to say what she wants and she wants me. She ends her little speech by looking down as if she's said too much. I lift her chin up so she'll look at me.

"Bella, I want you too. I've wanted you before I even met you." I smile ruefully at her confused look. "Your parents brought photographs of you and Alice. I saw your beautiful face and your gorgeous eyes and couldn't wait to meet you. I think our parents were secretly hoping we'd like each other. I'm positive they all knew of my interest, since I was continually asking questions about you." I grin remembering.

But, she has to understand she means more than a one night dalliance for me. "You need to know, I want more with you then just this night. I want so much more. Are you ready for that?" And I realize this is another first for me. I want a commitment.

She smiles at me. "I'm more than ready for that." She leans up and kisses me lightly, still with a smile on her lips as her arms wrap over my shoulders. I encircle her in my arms and pull her down on the bed so she's under me. I remove my arms from under her and use my elbows to support my weigh so I don't crush her. My hands smooth the hair from the soft skin of her face. As she gazes up at me, I cup her face with my hands, kissing her with all the desire and devotion I feel. She responds back with her fingers pulling my head closer still. It feels so good.

I break the kiss, removing one hand to massage her shoulder gently while letting my lips lazily glide up the curve of her jaw, then kissing up to her ear.

I need to take my time; to absorb every sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell of every minute to remember every second with her. She moves her head, giving me better access to continue my exploration of the delicate skin behind her ear. I nip lightly, and then kiss the skin while she softly moans and shifts her hips grazing my cock. I can't help but smile, her reactions letting me know she's enjoying this as much as I am.

I shift more of my weight onto one elbow so my free hand moves back and forth from her shoulder to her collar bone while my lips travel down her neck allowing my tongue to leave a trail on her skin. I kiss back up the trail and down again in a repetition. Bella's sensual fingers have been moving and clutching through my hair but when my lips meet the dip between her collarbones and taste her there, she holds my head tighter and her hips move up and into me. Her response is palpable. So much passion contained in her little body.

_She sets my blood on fire._


	20. She's a Goddess

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**This chapter was preread by Siobhan Masen and books-are-better. Thank you both so much for your nods of approval. It was not betaed(?) so all errors are mine.**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. Warning: My first lemon ever written so be gentle. *Blushing profusely* Also, there are lyrics weaved as lines from Elbow (my favorite band) and Snow Patrol, that I tweaked a bit for my benefit. **

**Chapter 19**

**She's a Goddess**

**Last Spring - 1935**

**Bella**

_He sets my blood on fire._

I've never experienced this rapid beating of my heart, the yearning need to be kissed intimately, the ache to be touched or the desire to feel skin on skin. He shifts his weight again and returns his lips to mine. His fingers are lightly tracing a path from my shoulder up to my neck. I want them lower. I remove one of my hands from his hair and place it over his. He lets me guide it to my breast and the gentle pressure creates a warm pleasure that spreads through my entire body. I arc into his palm and he squeezes lightly causing us both to moan into each other mouths.

_I need more. I need it now. I want skin on skin._

I break our kiss and remove my hand from his as I gently push him off me and he falls onto his back with a groan. I sit up on my knees, untying my robe and let it fall from my shoulders onto the bed. I then lift my shift up to my thighs, sit up from my knees and look at the beautiful man lying here in front of me. His fern green eyes are half hidden under his hooded gaze, darker in the soft light of the moon. Holding his eyes with mine, I cross my hands and grab the bottom material of my shift from around my knees and slowly pull it up. His eyes change from the hooded gaze to wide open, filled with passion and lust.

Brazenly, I pull the shift over my head and throw it to the foot of the bed. Here in all my naked glory, I capture his roving eyes again and then he moves. He sits on his knees in front of me putting us eye to eye, once again. "You are the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen," his voice is low and husky. It sends warm flashes of heat igniting my body.

We both reach for each other and the feel of skin on skin is ever so stimulating. His mouth is ravaging mine. My hands roam over his muscled back, up his neck, my fingers tangle in his soft hair, holding him tight to me in every way possible. And he does the same.

Wanting to explore more, I move my hands to his shoulders as I break the kiss, panting for breath. I want to feel his chest, his stomach and lower. I pull back so I can watch my hands in their quest to know all of him. He watches me with his hooded gaze, as I watch where my fingers glide, giving me leave to have my way with his body.

His chest is firm and smooth with a sprinkling of hair. I move both hands to his nipples which are raised and I can't help but squeeze them lightly. He shivers and groans low at my touch. This encourages me as I run my fingers lightly down and map the hills and dips of his skin on his abdomen causing goose flesh to rise. I reach the top of his pants and trace my fingers from front to sides, and back again, along the edge.

Watching his eyes now, boldly, I unfasten the top button, then the second and run my fingers through the valley of hair I find there. Again Edward groans, still letting me explore and then his hands are lost in my hair and his mouth is on mine, kissing me deeply as he sits up from his knees. It gives me a heady feeling of power that I can make this man unleash his passion. I release another button and slide my hands under the fabric on his hips as I lower his pants down his solid thighs. I feel the fine hairs on them and lightly float my fingers up and run my hands over his backside. Again, he groans and pulls me tightly to him with his hands on my backside, feeling his penis pushing against my stomach. The moan that escapes me is low and long breaking the kiss, as his mouth then explores my neck.

My passion is increasing with every moment and every movement. I want to feel all of him. I slide my hands to his hips, then through the valley of hair, up the sides of his penis, to the tip. He bucks his hips, so his penis rubs between my palms. It's amazingly soft, yet hard at the same time. I know there're various names, but I want to hear his words, "What do you call this?" I whisper, squeezing one hand lightly around him so he understands my question.

"Cock," he groans out, "It's my cock." He captures my mouth growling as I squeeze lightly again. He pulls back from our kiss, then away as he moves off the bed. He stands up to remove his pants, his eyes never leaving mine. Standing there naked, he is magnificent; tall, slim yet muscular, his handsome face radiating desire, while his cock shows its need, this vision will forever be burned in my memory, _he is the most beautiful man ever created._

H~~H

Edward

_She is the most beautiful woman ever created._ Seeing her sitting up from her knees; her skin glowing in the moonlight, with her hair wild around her shoulders, her eyes filled with passion, in the middle of my bed, is a vision that will forever be burned in my memory.

I reach for the top covers and pull them back. Bella moves further away. Further away is not what I want. "Lay down, Bella," the words coming out low and demanding from my throat.

She crawls slowly, seductively onto the sheets. Does she even know how stimulating she is? She is so naturally sensual. Nothing is contrived in her movements. It's who Bella is and _she is mine._

As she lies down and stretches out, I crawl on the bed and over her, resting my weigh on my elbows so I can look in her eyes. There is no fear, only hunger. Feeling her warm body from chest to toe is indescribable. I kiss her softly and she responds in kind. I cup her breasts with both hands gently massaging them and her hips rise up in the most natural and primal way.

My mouth moves without conscious thought; from her lips, to her cheek bones, to her jaw then down her neck to her chest until I reach a sweet, soft breast. I circle my tongue around the nipple and she moans while arcing up. I wrap my mouth around it, sucking gently while swirling my tongue. Her fingers weave through my hair as she keeps me there with moans of pleasure.

Her reactions are spontaneous. She doesn't pretend to be shy. She lets me know exactly what she likes, what she wants, what she needs. I nip at her breast and kiss it soothingly, then capture the other to do the same. She's moving her hips against my cock, causing me to buck into her.

She slides her hands down my back in a slow sensual glide, rounds down from my hips and then with one hand encircles her fingers around me. I groan while sucking on her nipple, biting gently, which causes her to moan and arc up. I have to stop her hand or this will end faster than I want it to. Her touch is too much. It's been a long time, since I've been with a woman and never one I've desired as much as I do Bella.

I move one of my hands down her silky, supple body and take her hand to release her hold on me, regretting it instantly. I raise her hand and put it above her head. With my mouth still on her breast, I slowly bring my hand back lightly moving down the soft flesh of her arm, over her shoulder, down the side of her breast, across her stomach, over her mound until I cup her, there. I release her breast and look into her eyes.

They are gloriously filled with want and need for me. I move my fingers through the folds of her wet center as she closes her eyes and exhales a throaty moan. The sound of her desire is making it difficult for me to remain in control and not savagely take her. I know it's her first time, and she may not enjoy the final act, but I want to try to give her the greatest of pleasure.

Being the selfish man I was before, I never needed or wanted to pleasure a woman. Not in the way I want to please Bella. For her, I'll do anything. I kiss her lips as my fingers continue to move through her wet, warm folds. I kiss from her lips, to chin, then neck, to breast and then nuzzle the tender flesh under them, causing her to moan again. I rain kisses down her smooth silky skin, moving my body down as I follow my lips decent, until I reach her mound. I look up and see her eyes half opened with lust and curiosity fighting for control. Her hands come down moving them to my head as she gently tries to pull me up. I hold both her hands and shake my head, no, causing the movement of my scruff laden chin, to brush against her sensitive spot. She stills immediately, her hands now grasping my head, arcs her hips and then lets out a low rolling moan. I almost lose my battle with my cock to the bed sheets.

I move lower and flick my tongue against her and take my first taste of woman. It's an intoxicating experience; her taste is sweet, tangy, earthy and all Bella. Moving lower, I use my tongue opening her folds from her entrance back to her hidden spot. She moans again as she arcs her hips. I use both my hands to spread her thighs wider licking her with the flat of my tongue from entrance to nub again. She's still holding onto my head as I move my hands under her arms and palm her breasts, circling and then lightly, pinching her nipples and she responds again with a deep moan, a thrust and opening herself wider for me. My lips suck lightly where she's most sensitive, massaging her breasts, while she moves her hips harder into my mouth.

My mouth can't get enough of her taste. Still sucking lightly, flicking with my tongue, I move my head back and forth with the rhythm of her hips. She starts moaning louder and I move one hand down and place a finger at her opening. I gently enter her, still pleasuring her with my tongue while moving my finger slowly in and out and then circling her moist inner walls. She's moving with a quicker pace as I add a second finger to open her further. Her head is drifting from side to side and I can tell her release is nearing. I increase the rhythm of my fingers, now rubbing against her inner flesh and flick my tongue faster with lips sucking her. Her body stiffens, hands clutching my hair, breathing now silent. I thrust my fingers into her and gently bite down and she explodes with a glorious cry of ecstasy. I feel her muscles contracting around my fingers as I slow the rhythm of mouth, tongue and fingers. Her body shudders and spasms as she comes down from her ecstasy.

I remove my fingers gently and kiss her one more time. Her grip has loosened on my head and hair as I kiss my way up her body. When I can look into her eyes, I see wonder, bliss and joy. A relaxed and contented smile graces her lips. I grin down at her. "You liked?" I'm thrilled and satisfied that I've only shared this experience with her.

She raises her arms up my back and pulls me closer to me. "I liked very much. In fact, I loved it very much," her voice is husky and relaxed.

She kisses me slowly and deeply to show just how much. The kiss is erotic knowing that she can taste herself. I groan with the thought. My pulsing cock is settled between her thighs and she tightens them and arcs up. I groan into her mouth. I'm hanging by a thread and I'm so afraid I will lose my fight before I can show her all the pleasures I want to give her again and again. I withdraw slightly from her body, Bella responds as she spreads her legs and brings her knees up so I settle more onto her.

"Bella, I want you so much but I don't have any protection to wear," I whisper quietly into her mouth.

She reads into my eyes, understanding me, kissing me gently without closing them, "I'll have no regrets either way," she whispers with a gentle kiss and I believe her. There is no guile or falsehood in her statement. Truth be told, I want her always, I want everything with this woman, and if she becomes pregnant with our child, it will only speed up my timetable, if she'll have me.

"You have to know the first time may not be pleasant for you. But, I promise you, it's only the first time and I'll try to be gentle," I whisper, kissing her softly.

"I know you will," her trust in me is both heartwarming and worrying. I don't want to hurt her, ever!

I reach down and grab my cock, wetting the tip with her moisture. I slowly enter her. I whisper for her to relax and she does. I'm able to enter, pull back a little and enter further, and it feels so good, warm, wet, smooth and tight. I've never been inside a woman without a barrier, but then again, I've never made love to a woman. She is my first, on so many levels and hopefully, my last.

She's still too tight, so I wrap my arms around her and roll onto my back, bringing her on top of me.

"I don't want to hurt you. Maybe if you're in control, it will be better for you," I hope, gritting my teeth, trying to keep the need at bay to simply thrust.

She nods her head, braces her hands on my chest and rises above me. She starts to move slowly up, then down, adjusting to me inside her.

Then I feel her barrier, her look shows me, she feels it too. She slowly rises up, then pushes down hard and I am all the way in. The feeling is pure bliss. I want to thrust into to her, but the little v between her brows shows me she's uncomfortable. I still myself and grit my teeth.

I look into her eyes, communicating that we can stop. She shakes her head, no, with silent understanding and begins to slowly move up and then down. I reach for her hands, entwining our fingers. Her rhythm increasing steadily and I start thrusting my hips never taking my eyes from hers.

She breaks eye contact, as she leans her head back and arcs her body, her hair grazing my thighs, her beautiful body bathed in moonlight. I feel the muscles in my groin and cock tightening with this new position. I release one hand and lower it to her pleasure spot. I move it rapidly, hoping to give her pleasure again, but in truth, I don't think I can hold out. At my touch, she increases her movements and I feel her muscles contracting around my cock as her gaze captures mine again. Her eyes and the friction she's creating, is my undoing.

I thrust hard, several times into her, harder than I wanted. "Oh, Bella!" I shout, as my need explodes from inside me, to inside her. When I meet her eyes, I'm spinning and I'm diving was wave upon wave crashes within me. I call out her name once more and I'm in ecstasy as never before. And I'm shaken, and then I'm still. I hear her gasp my name as I wrap my arms around this woman bringing her close. She's everything to me.

After several minutes, I finally regain my breath. I kiss her several times, all around her face then moving her hair away. She opens her eyes and I see wonder and bliss. "You're okay?" I murmur, between kisses.

She props herself up on her forearms, on my chest, stretched out on top of me, with my cock still buried inside her with her legs closed between mine. She contracts her muscles around my cock, squeezing a couple of times. "Better than okay, it was so much more than what I expected. But maybe it's because it's you." She kisses me, while squeezing me again and my cock is starting to spring back to life.

"Bella, I can't believe I am going to say this, but… you need to stop doing that. This is your first time, you're going be sore and I don't want you to regret this," I mumble between our kisses.

She does it again and I growl. I roll her unto her back and kiss her hard. I gently pull out, groaning and regretting it immediately. Her answering growl gives me great joy in knowing she misses our connection too.

I rise from the bed and pull on my pants. She lies there watching my movements with a quizzical look on her features. "Don't move. I'll be right back," I shake my finger at her and she laughs out loud. I love her carefree laugh. I grin back at her, then I turn and head to the bathroom.

I turn on the tap, for the hot water, and then find a hand towel. Running it under the warm water, I wring it out, turn off the water, returning to my room, which I'm hoping will become our room from now on.

She's lying exactly how I left her, which makes me smile. After closing the door, I just stand here and admire her beauty. She's a goddess. Never have I seen a more alluring creature. She's the making of the myths of mermaids and sirens. When did I become so poetic? I have no idea, but Bella, is a welcome arrow straight through my heart. She's all my dreams come true.

She reaches for the covers and I hold up my hand, stilling her. "You have no idea how beautiful you are or what you make me feel," I whisper softly, walking towards the bed. With one hand I unbutton the only one I fastened and allow them to slip off. Stepping out of them, I kneel on the bed and move to her side. I show her the cloth and then move it to her center. It's still a little warm and I gently clean her as her gaze watches me.

After, I toss the cloth to the floor, grab the top sheet and comforter over us, as I lay down while pulling her to me and wrapping her in my arms and kiss her hair. _Mine, all mine_.

She snuggles her head onto my chest, kisses the skin over my heart, with one arm wrapped around me. _I'm home_.

H~~H

**Bella**

_I'm home_. Cocooned in his arms, as the morning sun rises greeting the day. Waking to the warmth of his body, surrounding mine, skin on skin is sinfully luxurious. I smile to myself. I feel complete, as I let my mind wander to that long ago conversation with Renee. I now understand the look she held in her eyes that day for Charlie. To know, after all their years together, they shared not only love, but a passion for each other, brings a joy to my heart.

My mind replays last night and I realize all five senses have new meaning to me.

The touch of his hands as they slid over and in my body igniting fires in their wake.

The taste of him, his soft lips and warm mouth, then lower he tasted me that left me unbound, to the taste of us.

I can hear his soft breathing now, but I recall with vivid clarity, how glorious it was to hear his cry of ecstasy last night, as he released his pleasure, calling my name.

The scent of us still lingers in the room, the sweetest of all perfumes.

And finally sight. His eyes filled with lust, need and maybe love. I hope there's love because I love him. It's simple a fact. I've never believed in love at first sight. I never looked beyond my first impressions of any male, until I saw him. But, when I did see him the first time over a month ago, remembering the instant attraction, I understand now, how it's possible.

Last night was filled with such great passion and I can't help but think he also made love to me. I can't imagine what else the giving he gave could be called.

I remember his concern about me becoming pregnant. This isn't a concern to me. If it should happen, I will embrace the child forever and always, because it would be conceived in my love for this man.

Edward Masen, no Cullen, is who I want to be with always. He's the unknown expected guest. I think about his confession. Had he been with my parent's, would they still be alive or would he too be gone? We'll never know the answer. But this I do know, my parents were killed with guns, not an accident on the road. And I think, with a certain amount of assurance that no, I don't think he'd be here either. A shiver runs down my spine in the warm bed. I hug his arms that hold me gently.

Now, I understand where the money went and he says he's worked to repay us for it. Does this mean we can hire more people to work the fields? It would help us in so many ways.

He's only arrived a few days ago but it feels as if he is meant to be here. He laughs with everyone in our little family and they've all welcomed him into the fold. He works well with Emmett and Seth and seems to enjoy working in the fields, almost as much as I do. He seems happy and I hope he stays… _forever._

I wonder if we should inform the detective, Edward Cullen has been found. We will, when they come by again. They stop in about once a month and it's almost that time now.

I smile to myself. I have a surprise awaiting him in the Carriage House. I hug his arm to me again.

I can feel him stirring as he tightens his arms around me. I also feel his cock, growing in length against my backside. It ignites my newly discovered desires anew. I push onto him and I hear a low growl as he bucks back. He raises his head, placing kisses on my shoulder and moving up my neck, creating goose flesh and spikes of heat throughout.

"Good morning, beautiful," he whispers huskily in my ear.

"Good morning, handsome," smiling, as I whisper back.

"How do you feel?" He asks quietly with a smile in his voice.

I stretch my arms above my head and my body the length of his. I turn wrapping my arms around his neck, hug him and gently kiss his lips. His arms, still wrapped around me tighten their hold, pulling me closer.

Looking into his sleepy bedroom eyes, I smile again. "I feel wonderful, happy, and alive."

A beautiful smile graces his lips as he kisses mine, while asking, "No regrets?"

"None, last night was the best night of my life because of you. What you made me feel is indescribable. I hope to feel it again," I wink and grin at him.

"Oh Bella, I'd love nothing more than to make love, with only you, for the rest of my life. I was serious last night when I said I want more. I want you to be mine in every way and mine alone. Bella until I laid eyes on you, I can say with certainty, I have never been in love before. The pull you have on me is insurmountable. When we touch, it's as if you ignite me, body and soul. It may be too early to tell you how I feel, but you have to know, I love you, Bella," his words are spoken with reverence, watching my eyes, to see if he's said too much, but not backing down from those given.

_He loves me!_ He feels for me, what I feel for him, is both heartwarming and endearing. Still holding his eyes, so he can see the truth, "I love you too, Edward. I've wanted you since we first met. My first thoughts of passion are because of you. Then these last few days have shown me, I too want more. I want it all with you. I want you to be only mine."

The smile that spreads across his features, from lips to eyes, takes my breath away. "Bella, my first, my only love," he whispers, kissing me deeply, showing me just how much.

He pulls me under him, while still kissing me. One hand caresses my skin as it slowly moves lower, until he finds my damp, warm, hidden spot.

His fingers stroking me, creating a need in me that bursts to life. Then they enter me, speeding up my heart and making me moan into his mouth.

My hands are sliding up and down his back, and then I move one hand up his neck to weave into his hair, holding his mouth to mine, while the other moves down to encircle his cock. He groans, as he bucks into my hand, moving up and down. I apply more pressure, as I stroke him against his movements, feeling him grow larger in my hand. He growls, into my mouth and I chuckle deeply in my throat.

"You're wicked," he hisses, against my ear, as he softly bites the lobe. It's my turn to growl and I feel him smile against my neck. I move his cock to my entrance as he removes his fingers. I play with him, sliding his cock through my folds, then up to my pleasure spot and down slowly again, while his cock is growing larger still in my hand. He nips at my neck, then he groans, and the vibrations send waves of desire down my body. I arc my hips and raise my knees up as I guide him in and the intimacy of the action begins to unravel me.

He raises his body up on his hands, pushes in and pulls out in a slow tempo, all the while looking into my eyes. And I see it. The love emanating from his to mine as he's encased in me sets me aflame. Never taking my eyes from his, I glide my hands to his hips, bending my knees and tilting hips. I then run my hands over his backside, adding more pressure to his thrusts, quickening his pace. His thrusts are deepening, as he lowers himself to his elbow and he uses one hand to rub my pleasure spot. My breathing is quicker, my heart is beating wildly, as I arc harder into him and the tightening of my muscles becomes too much as I feel that glorious release. His mouth captures mine, as I moan his name in pleasure, while my contractions continue with his quicker thrusts. He then stills, finding his release, groaning back my name. I hug him tightly to me as he collapses. I enjoy his weight. I want him to stay right here and never leave. Leaving is not an option anymore. _He's mine!_

As our breathing calms down, he shifts himself to the side and brings me into the shelter of his arms, our connection broken in one way, only to be replaced with another. He kisses my hair and murmurs, "We need to get up, don't we."

It's more a statement, then a question but the answer is the same, "We do," I sigh. Never before, have I ever wanted to lie in bed all day, as I do now. But, I need to clean up, break the fast and get the cotton planted.

Pulling me up to him, he gives me a searing kiss, that leaves me breathless, and then he sprinkles my face with little kisses. Hugging me tight, and then sighing, he lets me go, rolls to the side of the bed and sits up. He grabs his pants and puts them on, then finds my night shift and robe and hands them to me. Sitting up myself, I pull my shift over my head and crawl to the bed's edge.

He helps me to stand and hugs me again while grumbling, "You better go get ready or else you will not be leaving this room."

I smile up at him, "As much as I feel the same about not leaving, I do have a full day ahead."

"_We_, have a full day ahead. Bella, don't you understand? I'm not going anywhere, but where you are, as long as you'll have me, alright?" his tone serious.

I run my hand through his wild hair and then cup his face. "Yes, I do. You're staying and I couldn't be happier," my eyes showing him all the love I feel in my heart. I reach up and kiss him again, and then pull away and he walks me to the door.

Smiling, I make my way to the bathroom, then my bedroom to dress for the day. As I am leaving my room, I see him dressed and waiting for me with a suitcase in hand. I look up at him confused, but he smiles at me reassuringly, as he takes my hand as we head down the hall.

Jasper is coming out of his room and smiles at us. He stops as he notices the suitcase in Edward's hand. He smiles bigger, giving Edward a nod, returns to his room, only to return within moments with a suitcase of his own. Now, I'm more than confused. Edward squeezes my hand, just as Alice opens her door to see us with a happy grin on her face.

Good mornings are said as we all head downstairs. Mrs. Cope already has breakfast prepared, which smells wonderful, as we enter the dining room. Everyone is already there, filling their plates, as more greetings are made. No one misses Edward holding my hand and smiles abound.

Once everyone is settled around the table, Edward takes the opportunity to reintroduce himself to the others and tells his story. Some are surprised, while others seem to have known at least a part of his secret. Questions are asked and answered.

When breakfast is complete, Edward looks at Emmett asking, "How do you go about looking for workers for the field?"

A short discussion follows, with Emmett finally sighing, "But we need money to hire the men."

Edward and Jasper look at each other, stand up from their chairs in unison, lift their bags to the chairs and open them. Gasps echo throughout the room. There is more money than I have ever seen in my entire life.

Jasper relays how he saw Alice at the funeral, how knew he would help Edward and in the end, all of us. He gazes at her and she returns the look, and I see the love they too share and smile for them.

Jasper then tells us how he and Edward created their Pawn Shop business and the many successes they had. I'm in awe of what they've done for us. They didn't have to. Edward could have just returned home, never to be heard from again. But he didn't. Instead he felt bound to redeem himself to Charlie and Renee, whom he cared about and admired. And to two others he had only heard of. Tears blur my vision as I look up at him. He takes my hand, pulling me up to stand and hugs me, whispering in my ear, "I love you Bella, never doubt me."

My emotions roll through me as I choke out my reply, "I love you too and I won't."


	21. Reunion

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**This chapter was preread by Siobhan Masen. Thank you so much for your nod of approval. She has some fabulous stories that everyone should be reading.**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. Especially not blasting me on the last chapter. Someone left a guest comment saying they made a bannerforthis story. I can't pm guests but I am humbled and awed that someone took the time. Thank you. Also, there are lyrics weaved as lines from Elbow (my favorite band) that I tweaked a bit for my benefit. Guy Garvery my lyricist crush. *sigh* **

**Chapter 20**

**Reunion**

**Early Summer – 1935**

**Edward**

Lying here in bed with Bella sleeping by my side, I place the kind of kiss, that wouldn't wake a baby, on the same face that wouldn't let me sleep. I'm amazed at the changes in my life. It's been four weeks since I told Bella my story and in those four weeks my life has changed dramatically.

After I relayed my story that morning at the table, Bella, Alice, Jasper and I went into the library and put the money in the safe. When the safe door closed, I could feel the weight of the guilt I carried start to ease from my shoulders.

"Come, I have a surprise for you," Bella smiles excitedly, while pulling on my hand. We head outside towards the Carriage House and as I breathe in the clean, fresh morning air, I feel even more alive. Bella stops at the door and has an amused glint in her eyes. I help her slide open the door and follow her inside to a covered vehicle as she starts pulling the tarp off. Under the tarp is the Aston Martin in pristine condition.

She looks up at me with a gentle smile. "As you must know, this is the car my parents were driving home. It was brought here after it was searched, because it held some of my parent's possessions and we didn't know when you might come to claim it." Her expressive eyes mist as she relives those dark days. She sighs, "We removed our parent's items and have kept it covered ever since."

I'm stunned. They never used it. She doesn't even know it belonged to her parents. Just as I am ready to explain to her the truth about the car's true ownership, Emmett comes in. "Bella, Edward, Detective Uley and Officer Call are here," his expression serious.

At first, I'm confused as to whom these men are and then I notice both Bella and Emmett are looking at me with indecision. I then comprehend they're the investigators for the case surrounding Charlie and Renee.

I have a brief bout of panic, wondering if perhaps someone didn't believe my story, but then I look at Bella as she cocks her brow, as if daring me to speak those thoughts out loud. She already reads me so well. Her hands fly to my face as she moves to stand in front of me, her eyes search out mine as she speaks, "I believe you and in you. You've more than shown yourself to be a man of your word. Don't doubt mine. It's your choice if you want to explain what happened. We'll all stand behind you." Her mouth softly touches mine as I realize she's on tiptoes in her attempt to gently seal her promises.

I embrace her to me. "Thank you."

I glance at Emmett and he tilts his head towards Bella. "She's right Edward. You wouldn't have saved all of us, if you were only looking out for yourself. None of us doubt your story."

I nod to him, my mind made up after hearing both of their declarations. "I might as well finish this. I'm tired of hiding who I am. If they want to take me in for questioning, so be it." I take Bella's hand in mine and we walk back up to the house.

Once we reach the parlor, everyone is already seated including the two men I had briefly seen twice before. Recognition immediately enters the eyes of Elder.

We take a seat obviously saved for Bella and me as she begins the introductions, "Detective Uley, Officer Call, I would like to introduce you to Edward…"

"Cullen, Edward Cullen," I finish, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable with either the lie or the truth.

Both men are startled momentarily, but immediately recover themselves. Detective Uley eyes narrow as if flashing through his memory as to where we would have met, and then he remembers. "I've seen you before. At the Inn, at the port, you were sitting at a table next to us. You weren't Cullen then."

Officer Call finishes the train of thought. "You had the front desk woman all but swooning over you. She called you, Mr. Masen."

Emmett chuckles and Rosalie shushes him, while I blush slightly. Bella looks up at me and I shrug my shoulders, I didn't know what else to do. I cleared my throat and begin, "There was a reason for the name change if you'll let me explain."

And so I do.

For over three hours I tell them my story and answer their questions. Bella sits beside me, either holding my hand or softly rubbing my arm or back, never letting me forget, I wasn't alone. I fully expect them to take me in for the simple fact of never coming forward in the first place, but, truthfully, they have no evidence to place me at the scene of the crime.

Finally, they focus on the robbery. Detective Uley questioning, "So you never got the last name of this Victoria woman?"

I shake my head. "No, like I said, I'd just met her and it was a short conversation about New Orleans and places to see while I was here in the States." I had already given them as detailed a description of both her and James.

Both law men exchange a look before Detective Uley speaks, "Well, your description of the two, are an exact match to James and Victoria de Sade. They are wanted for similar crimes all along the southern States."

They had done this before? Noticing my look of surprise, Detective Uley grimaces a little before answering, "Yeah, you aren't the first. There are at least seven other victims that we know about. But, they leave the area immediately. The victims are drugged and some beaten, so they usually have a day's lead to escape capture."

"Have you notified your parents yet about your whereabouts?" Officer Call changes the subject.

"No sir, not yet, I wanted to do the right thing for Bella and Alice _first_," I stress.

"Well, I suggest you do so soon. We receive weekly letters from them, asking for any new information or if you've been found," Officer Call recommends with a stern look, as if I were a wayward child.

I nod my head at him, understanding how my parents must still be worried and would never give up hope of finding me. Then I remember my ponderings as to why they never contacted Bella and Alice. I look at Bella musing out loud, "I still don't understand why you never received letters from my parents. They loved Charlie and Renee so much. They never even sent you condolences?"

Bella simply shakes her head and quietly answers, "No."

Emmett suddenly stands up. All eyes turn to him as he begins pacing the room. Finally, he grinds out, "It does make sense." I look at him confused.

He ignores me to look directly at Bella with raised eyebrows in challenge, "Who's been bringing you the mail, Bella?"

Bella looks questioningly at Emmett, but then anger begins to fill her eyes. Between clenched teeth she hisses, "Jacob."

"So, you didn't receive letters from the Cullen's. You didn't receive notice of the property taxes being due. I wonder what else you didn't receive." Emmett wonders out loud. Gasps fill the parlor from Alice, Rosalie and Leah. Seth swears under his breath and Mrs. Cope looks ready to spit fire.

"I don't know! But it does explains some things, doesn't it," seethes, a very angry Bella. I run my hand up and down from her neck to back trying to offer her comfort.

Detective Uley breaks into their conversation. "Jacob, Jacob Black? He's the man who was at the service for your parents, right?"

"Yes, he's the one you spoke with after," Alice answers and then questions. "Why did you talk with him anyways?"

Detective Uley looks at her for a moment, but evades a complete answer with a shrug, "It has to do with the investigation. We're checking out every available lead."

"Can you tell us more about the clue Renee left?" Bella questions in a calmer tone.

"No, not right now, but soon I think," he again evades a direct answer. He raises from his seat and we all follow suit. "Mr. Cullen, I wish you would have spoken to us in the beginning. We've spent a lot of time trying to find you, thinking you were a victim along with the Swans. It would've saved us a lot of man hours. But, I'm glad you're alive and well." He shakes his head at me in frustration. "I suggest you contact your parents as soon as possible. They seem like very loving parents who refused to give up on their search for their son." He shakes my hand and then addresses the room at large, "We need to go, but we'll be back in touch with you soon."

Once they've left, I feel the burden I've carried for so long fully leave my shoulders. I feel clean. I don't have to hide who I am anymore. It's done and I'm finally free.

Bella's standing beside me, and as I look down into her eyes, I can see she apparently still harbors quite a bit of anger. I'm assuming it's directed at Jacob Black. Not knowing if he's intentionally taken letters from my parents, I realize then, I do still have to hide who I am. I hug her tight to me. "We'll get to the bottom of this Jacob Black issue. But, I don't think we should let him know who I really am. Does he still collect your mail?"

"No, I told him to stop. Leah's recently been picking it up," she sighs into my chest.

I look around the room. "So, as far as anyone outside this home is concerned, I'm Edward Masen. I don't know this Jacob Black, but if he's purposely been keeping correspondence from reaching Bella and Alice, we need to figure out why." Everyone agrees, and it's clear as I search each and every face in the room, everyone has their own theories about Jacob Black's reasons.

Emmett spits out bitingly, "Oh, I'm pretty sure what's been happening now. It all makes perfect sense! When the Blacks were no longer shipping their tobacco overseas, Mister Black was angry at Charlie. He probably figured Charlie was still dealing with and visiting your parents." He looks at me, filling in some history for me and making sure I'm able to follow his train of thought.

"So, when the time comes for last year's cotton to be sold, they keep the correspondence from arriving. Isn't it blinding obvious, we just happen to have a fire in the office where the only other information was stored for you to contact Mr. Cullen, Bella? Jacob must have overheard our conversation in the fields when we discussed how to get in touch with him." Bella nods her head, agreeing with everything Emmett is saying.

Based on their expressions, the others too seem to agree as well.

"Jacob comes here asking you, practically begging you, to ask his father for help. Then, when you attempt to talk business with Mister Black he tries to blackmail you into a marriage agreement, complete with contract." Emmett is raging now. His large feet pound down on the floor with each step in his furious pacing, "That fire killed my father. That bastard killed my FATHER!" he yells up to the ceiling.

Rosalie is at Emmett's side trying to calm him down. All the girls are now there, hugging him, giving solace. I can only pat him on the shoulders and offer hope, "If the Blacks are responsible, and it sounds like it's the case, then they will see justice."

"Not Mister Black. He was killed in a hunting accident. There's only Jacob left, but I'm sure he was part of it. There's no doubt in my mind," Emmett heaves, reining in his emotions. "I need to do something, work in the fields or drive into town to hire some quality workers. It'll help me focus and get myself under control."

"I'm coming with you," Rosalie practically shouts in her enthusiasm. At Emmett's questioning gaze, she continues, "If you should happen to run into Jacob, you'll be compelled to go after him and I won't let you go to jail. If you leave this property Emmett McCarty, I'm coming with you."

She spins on her heel, her eyes are stressed with worry. She searches for another logical person to help her in her quest to keep Emmett calm. "Seth, why don't you come too, just in case?"

Seth nods, yes, in his agreement. Rosalie turns back to Emmett and he glares at Rosalie, while she glares right back. A slow smile builds across Emmett's face as he pulls her to him. "Yes, ma'am. Whatever you say, boss."

Laughing, she pats his cheeks. "That's better. Now we should get going and get some much needed help."

He kisses her quickly. "Let's go." As quickly as his rage appeared, it disappears just as quickly, but make no mistake, _it's not forgotten_.

As the three of them head out, Mrs. Cope and Leah head into the kitchen and Bella has returned to my side. I wrap an arm around her, pulling her by her waist to bring her closer. I don't have to fight my need any more too always have her near or the constant urge to touch her. She's mine, and I'll always want her beside me.

I look across the parlor and see a mirror image of my position with Bella, reflected back in Alice and Jasper. I quirk my brow at Jasper, who grins wickedly as he chuckles, "What, you can find your better half and I can't have mine?"

My smile is huge when I hear him call Bella my better half. I look down at Bella, who's smiling first at Alice and Jasper, then up at me. I clear my throat and speak up, "Not at all. I'm happy for you and Alice, Jasper. I just wish we would have sold the damn violin sooner."

"Yeah, but it was the candlesticks which started everything in motion. Thank you, Bella," he grins widely.

"Oh no, don't thank me. It was all Alice. She gave them to me to sell and I'm forever thankful she did," Bella tilts her head to Alice.

We all look at Alice, who shrugs her shoulders. "I knew they would bring us what we needed, and they did." She hugs Jasper close to her.

"They did indeed and I have them upstairs in one of my bags. I'll bring them down and you can put them back where they belong," Jasper adds, kissing her forehead.

"And I need to sign over the Aston Martin to the two of you. The car isn't mine," Both Bella and Alice can't believe what they're hearing. "It was put in my name to save on potential taxes. Charlie fell in love with the car and bought it," I smile at them as they try to grasp my words.

Alice has tears, running down her cheeks and is shaking her head in astonishment. Bella's eyes are misty as she looks up at me. "I can't believe what you've done for us, what you've done for me. Words will never be enough to thank you. And you too Jasper, for believing in Edward, to accomplish what you both did, for helping us. But, more importantly for bringing back Alice. She's more alive and happier than I can ever remember seeing her."

To someone witnessing from the outside, it may have been an overly emotional moment, but, for all that's occurred since first arriving here, it feels right. I found a true friend in Jasper. I know in my heart, the others who live here will end up being just as close of friends as time goes on.

They have already stood by me as I spoke to the authorities, giving me indescribable strength with their simple gesture. Jasper and I have found 'our better halves' as he pointed out and I can't imagine never having this feeling of completeness as I do now.

Bella pulls me out of my silent musings. "You really need to write your parents. They must be beyond worried and fear the worse, if they wrote weekly to the police."

"You're right, I'll do it now," I agree.

"I'm going to go help with lunch, see you in a bit."

I bend, kissing her briefly. "You can count on it."

H~~H

I finish the letter and we all meet up at lunch. Emmett has already returned and men are arriving and some are already in the fields. Seth is his assistant and they work well together. Emmett is directing on one side and Seth is doing the same on the other. During lunch, the talk is centered on how they'll proceed with Bella playing a key role. Because I know nothing about running the Plantation, it's educational to listen to the three of them strategizing.

After much discussion, Bella, who sits between Emmett and me, puts a hand on Emmett's forearm. "I leave it in your hands, Emmett. I couldn't ask for a better Foreman or Assistant," she looks at Seth, who smiles at her compliment. Both young men soon leave the table to get as much done with the remaining hours of the day.

Young men, it's what they are. Emmett's twenty, while Seth is barely eighteen. They're both so young, but so competent for their ages. I remember back to what I was doing at their age and see how frivolous I was. Sure, I had my job working for the Cullen business, but I didn't have a care in the world, except for what pleased me. I really was a selfish popinjay. A reality check was earned and learned when I came to these shores and I'm the better man for it. Humility suits me just fine.

After we clear away the dishes from the table, I ask if Bella can show me where the post office is. I need to post the letter to my parents and she agrees. I run upstairs to retrieve my key for the truck, grab the letter and return to find her waiting by the back door. With an impish grin on her face, she holds up another key.

"Want to take a ride in an Aston Martin?" she smirks.

"Nothing would please me more," I happily, grin back at her. I take her hand and we run to the Carriage House. After I slide open the big wooden door, I walk to the driver's side of the car making sure to open the door for her, "My lady," I bow, waving my hand to the driver's seat, using my best smile and manners.

She looks at me and shakes her head, "No, thank you, I prefer to be chauffeured around," she smiles winningly. Who am I to deny her or myself, for that matter, the pleasure of driving an Aston Martin?

I walk over to the other side, opening the passenger door and she slides in, smiling all the while. I can't help the urge to kiss her and I don't even try. Her lips are so soft and I feel myself getting lost all over again. She breaks the kiss, gasping for air, so I kiss her nose, cheeks and forehead.

I close her door after one last smile and run around the front and hop into the driver's seat.

Even after sitting for so long, it starts right up. Bella explains how Emmett, on a monthly basis, would start it up to try to keep the engine greased. I look at her, lean over, kiss her again, then put the car in gear and we're off. She lets out a contented sigh, which I fully understand.

On the way into town, Bella points out her grandparent's home, where Seth and Leah are now staying. It's good they have someone reliable taking care of it. We pass by her high school. She explains, how she, Alice, Seth and Leah completed their schooling from home and only attended for necessary testing in the offices after school hours. The fortitude instilled in all of them is inspiring. She points out various buildings, many closed due to the depression as we make our way towards the post office.

Once there, I park the car, open her door and as I help her out, a shrill voice screeches from behind me to assault our ears, "Bella!"

Bella, now standing by me with her hand in mine, responds to the offending interloper, "Hey Lauren," with all the enthusiasm of a 'mud fence post' as I recall Jasper saying once. I look from her sullen face, turn to face this Lauren and try to determine exactly what about this person that made her this way.

The very pretty blonde bounces up closer. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Bella?" Lauren gushes at me.

Bella releases my hand and murmurs, "Lauren, this is Edward, Edward, this is Lauren." It isn't the best introduction I'd ever heard and Bella looks as if she wants to sink into the ground.

"Bella, that's no introduction at all." Lauren pouts, as if reading my thoughts and then turns to me, batting her lashes. "I'm Lauren Mallory and I haven't seen you around before, are you new to the area? If Bella's too busy working on that Plantation of hers, I'd love to show you around," she rushes out, while she pushes her breasts out further towards me. And then I understand, Bella thinks I would be attracted to her and in years past, I might have been, but not anymore. Not since I found _my_ Bella.

"Bella is doing a fabulous job of making me feel very welcome, thank you very much," I take back Bella's hand and I squeeze it, making her look at me as I smile down at her. She returns the smile, her whole face lighting up.

Lauren tries again to have me take her up on her invitation. "I'm sure Bella can show you the general area, but there are some places she may not be familiar with, so… if you want a complete tour," she tries to purr, while gliding her hand over the hood of the car.

Bella finally feeling secure, tilts her head while asking, "Aren't you dating Jacob, Lauren?"

At the name, I become a little more interested in her. Not because of her, but because of the name Jacob. Is it _the_ Jacob, I've heard so much about, I wonder.

"Oh Bella, you know we're just good friends. You never know when the other might find their special someone, ya know?" Lauren looks at me with a sly smile crossing her face. I know exactly what she means and I don't want Bella around someone like her—_at all._

I shut the door, pulling Bella towards the post office entrance, effectively ending the conversation with a "Good day, Lauren."

"But wait, I didn't catch your last name," she attempts to regain my full attention by crossing her arms under her breasts, pushing them up higher.

I look at Bella smiling. "Taken," is my answer. Bella smiles her most gorgeous smile back at me while I wrap my arms around her and kiss her hard. In the middle of the day, on a busy sidewalk. But I don't care at the moment. Several people walk by, tsking, at our inappropriateness and I let it slide. They don't know what it's like to kiss her. I finally end the kiss. Bella's features are lovely and flushed.

"Well, Bella, this is certainly a new development I'm sure Jacob will be interested in," Lauren sneers.

"Why would Jacob care about Bella? He's not some secret boyfriend is he?" I'm only looking at Bella, feigning shock for Lauren, but Bella can see amusement in my eyes.

Bella shakes her head. "No, Jacob is most definitely not my boyfriend," she's laughing lightly.

"This is good news, because I swear, I thought I was your boyfriend," I chuckle back at her.

Her beautiful smile lights up her face again. "More."

"More," I repeat with my nose brushing hers and completely ignoring Lauren as we turn and walk into the post office.

H~~H

After posting the letter we return to the car only to be stopped again. This time it is by a young man with dirty blonde hair and a pretty girl with brown hair.

"Hey Bella, it's so good to see you. How are you? How's Alice?" he inquires kindly. Bella only smiles at him.

"Mike, after all these years, you still hope someday she'll talk to you? It looks like she already has a boyfriend," the woman lightly complains and rolls her eyes.

"No Jessica, I'm not hoping she'll talk to me, not like that anyways. I'm just genuinely concerned for both her and Alice, especially after what you did." He glares at her.

Jessica, looking sheepish, "Bella, I'm so sorry I've been so hurtful to you and to Alice. It was wrong and spiteful, and you didn't deserve it. When Mike pointed out the money you lost because of me, I was ashamed. I do hope someday you can forgive me." I've no idea what Jessica meant, but the apology seemed heartfelt.

Bella looks at her, weighing her words and finally speaks aloud, "Thank you Jessica, I appreciate it a lot." Then she addresses Mike. "And both Alice and I are very good Mike. Thank you for your concern."

Mike looks as if he could faint and begins mumbling, "She spoke to me. She actually spoke to me."

Bella laughs and turns towards the car as I open the door for her. Before I could shut it, Jessica looks from Bella, to me, then back again. "Bella, aren't you going to introduce us to your boyfriend?" she smiles.

Bella laughs again, "Jessica, Mike, this is Edward. Edward, this is Mike and Jessica."

I smile at the both of them and shake Mike's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Jessica smiles as she replies, "Likewise." Mike is still mumbling.

I chuckle to myself, suddenly understanding who Mike is. I shut Bella's door, get in the car, start it up and take off, still chuckling.

As we make our way back to the plantation, no home, its home we're going, I break the silence, "So, he was one of your suitors, the one you never spoke to until just now?"

Bella is laughing to herself, "Yeah, never in all the time I've known him, have I ever said a word, until today."

"What made today different?" I'm curious.

"Jessica did it. When she called you my boyfriend, I decided he wouldn't be a pest anymore. Plus, it looks like Jessica finally got what she's always wanted, which is Mike," she smiles, truly happy for Jessica.

On the ride home, Bella explains to me about how Alice didn't speak after her parents died. How nightmares tortured her every night, until Bella came back after selling the candlesticks. How they slowly subsided and were completely gone by the time she came back the second time. To the lie Jessica spoke, losing them business at the farmers market.

Again, I'm speechless listening to her story. The strength of her character and sheer will power to overcome so much adversity is astonishing. I didn't think she could surprise me anymore and yet she did. I understand now, to be loved by Bella means undying devotion. She's shown it for her family and friends and now for me. It's a heady thought to be in her grace and I know I will strive every day to remain there.

H~~H

Bella and I haven't been back to town since the posting of my letter four weeks ago. Leah collects the mail for all of us and with Rosalie's help, buys the necessary staples which the Plantation doesn't produce. I still haven't heard from my parents. I hope they're alright and the shock of my letter didn't send one of them into a coronary.

Emmett has been explaining the basics of running the Plantation to me and I seem to be catching on fairly quickly. Emmett remarked just yesterday, "You're a natural born farmer, Edward. You belong working the land." I couldn't have been happier with his praise.

I work every day in the fields and in the family garden, learning how to make things grow. I feel like the land is actually speaking to me and telling me what to do and continuing to welcome me. I enjoy the smell of the soil when it's turned and the fresh air. I like the way my body feels, less aches and more muscle. I relish the feel of the sun tanning my skin or the breeze cooling the sweat. My thinking is clearer and I'm a stronger person all the way around. This is not some passing fancy. I see myself living and working on this land for many years to come. I'm thriving here and I love it.

I've created a new set of accounting books for Bella to keep track of expenses and such. Everything is starting anew since the fire destroyed the old ones. And even though I excel at the book work, I'm always itching to get back outside and work under the sun and in the fields with my new family and love.

My love for Bella also continues to grow daily. Everything she does is amazing. With the additional twenty men, some with families, the women are constantly cooking meals, cleaning house, taking care of the increasing livestock, gardening and washing clothes. There's always something to do and no one complains. In fact, they flourish with all the activity.

The evenings are filled with music, telling stories, listening to the radio with all in attendance. Everyone enjoys each other's company. No one, not even Bella or Alice put themselves above anyone. It's so different from my younger days with all the one-upmanship I experienced, it's no wonder I was never content. But content I am now.

My nights with Bella, when we retire to our room, are filled with passion, lust and always end in love. We've talked about the future, and we both know marriage is in it for us, with children to follow. We can't leave for any kind of a honeymoon until we see our first crop grown, harvested and sold. In the worst case scenario, if my father doesn't write me soon, I'll journey to England and make matters happen for the purchase of the cotton. Cullen Holdings, profit greatly from the purchase of it for our mill.

H~~H

It's midway through the day, and I've just left the library/office. I'm heading to find Emmett to see what needs to be done, when I notice a vehicle coming up the drive. As the automobile is rolling to a stop, I walk out onto the veranda. I finally recognize the driver, just as the passenger side door opens and I see my mother. She looks tired, but relief washes over her features, as she yells, "Edward, Edward, you're here, you're really alive and you're here." Her limbs can't move her in my direction fast enough. We meet in the center of the yard as we hug each other tightly, I notice my father getting out of the driver's side.

My mother is still mumbling how I'm alive and I'm trying to reassure her that I'm fine. My father approaches slowly, he's trying to give my mom some time. I see Bella coming around the side of the house as I sweep them both into a family hug. "Son, I'm so happy to see you. You'll never know the worry we've been through," my father murmurs.

"I know, dad, I'm sorry, I'll explain it all to you soon, I promise," I'm so happy to see them both." I look at Bella and she has a sweet smile on her face, with misty eyes, watching me with my parents and our happy reunion from the edge of the veranda. Just as she's starting to walk forward to welcome them, the side door of the automobile opens up to my surprise. Running towards me, with tears in her eyes, is_ Tanya?_


	22. Learning Truths

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. These two next chapters will answer many of the questions I've been asked. They are necessary and I do hope you enjoy them. **

**Chapter 21**

**Learning Truths**

**Early Summer – 1935**

**Bella**

Watching Edward's family reunion is heartwarming, but it also leaves me a little melancholy at the same time. Wishing I could have had at least one more day with my parents and yet knowing it would never be enough.

They look exactly as they had been described by Renee and Charlie. Carlisle is a strikingly handsome man, with blonde, slightly graying hair at the temples. Esme is indeed a beautiful woman with her auburn hair and stunning fern green eyes which Edward obviously inherited.

Entering into the joyful reunification is a tall, stunningly gorgeous woman with blonde hair and lovely blue eyes. Tears glittering like diamonds, hang from her bottom lashes, as she moves forward to hug Edward. She would give Rosalie a run for her money.

Edward looks confused as he mumbles, "Tanya" but briefly hugs her, while still holding onto Esme, continuing to reassure her that he's fine. His gaze returns to mine, with concern etched across his features, and I intuitively know then, he and Tanya had been something more. Edward reads me so well, seeing the understanding as it must have leapt across my features, but pleading with his eyes to let him explain.

There's never been any doubt in my mind that Edward was a knowledgeable man—when it came to the fairer sex. He's too handsome to not have attracted the female gender. He's too skilled, in the ways of pleasuring me, to not have gained experience along the way. What I don't know is, when he cut ties with his family, did he also cut ties with her. Once again, his eyes show his feelings to me, for me, and I relax my tense stance of clenched fists, I had involuntarily taken.

Edward continues to reassure the emotional group. "Mom, Dad, I'll explain everything to you soon. I want to introduce you to someone though." Then he chuckles, quietly adding, "Well, quite a few people actually, but first, I want to introduce you to Isabella, Bella Swan."

I realize I'm not dressed to the nines, as are our three guests, who turn to look at me as one. I'm in my usual work clothes of white button up, sleeveless cotton shirt, jeans and boots. My hair is in a ponytail and I probably have soil on my clothes and possibly on my face. Edward walks over to me, wearing his jeans and boots along with the blue shirt Renee had made for him. He smiles gently at me, wiping a smudge of dirt from my cheek, then wrapping an arm around my waist, turning us, to introduce me to his parents and the beautiful woman.

The simple gesture is enough to instantly comfort me, and it also lets our guests know—_I am his_. Esme is the first to come forward and greet me, with a wondrous smile spreading across her tear stained features as she looks from me, to Edward and then back to me. "Bella, I've heard so many wonderful things about you. Your parents were as proud as any could be and I'm so happy to finally meet you," her voice still tight with tears from their reunion.

She comes further still and gently hugs me in her warm embrace, as she whispers in my ear, "I'm so sorry about your parents. I loved them so much. Charlie and Renee were the two most important people in my life besides family. I miss them terribly and remember them every day." So much emotion pours from her heart, I clasp her to me, grateful she recalls my parents so fondly and would share her thoughts, brings tears to my eyes.

When we release each other, Carlisle is standing beside her with a kind and caring smile for me. "Bella, Esme's right. Your parents were both so proud of you and Alice. You both were their joy in every word in letters written, and in person when we talked about family and home. After all this time, to finally be able to meet you, is a great honor," he says, hugging me tight, while my tears christen his shirt.

Once he releases me, Edward's arm around me tightens and I calm down a bit. Wiping the tears from my face, I laugh lightly, clearing my throat from their sentimental words and smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, the pleasure is all mine. My parents had spoken highly and fondly of the both of you, since I was a little girl. They counted you as the dearest of friends and I'm so thrilled to finally meet you too."

"Oh no, don't you dare be formal with us. It's Carlisle and Esme, Bella. You're family to us," Esme smiles gently, then looks to Edward with a wink and back to me. I blush, which they both notice and laugh lightly while Edward again tightens his arm around me. I look up at him and can see love shinning in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

Tanya, who has been quietly listening to our words, finally comes forward to be introduced. She has a wistful look in her eyes as she views Edward and me, with his parents, but graciously smiles gently at me. "I'm Tanya Denali. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope it won't be an imposition in my coming unannounced?"

I see resignation settling firmly in her eyes and any hopes of a further intimate reunion with Edward has completely diminished. Being brought up to welcome all those who come to our home, I politely insist, "I'm Bella, Miss Denali, and we'd be honored to have you stay with us. You're more than welcomed."

She looks to Edward again, but I don't look up to see his expression, but when her eyes return to mine, she nods and adds, "Tanya, please call me Tanya."

"Thank you, Tanya. Would everyone like to come in and relax after your travels? Can I get you anything to drink or eat? I need to help get lunch ready and then I'll see to your rooms. I'm sorry for not being better prepared for your arrival," I explain, in one long breath.

Edward again squeezes my waist and is about to speak when Esme beats him to it, "Bella, we didn't let you know we were coming. When we received Edward's letter, we made our arrangements for a ship and the packing our things to get here as soon as possible. We should have sent word but I was so anxious to see Edward again, I didn't think," she says gently. "If it would be a help, I'd like to join you in your preparations for lunch. I loved spending time with Renee and Mrs. Cope in the kitchen," she adds with fond reminiscence in her eyes.

"Well then, I'm sure Mrs. Cope will welcome you back into her kitchen, since you've already been trained," I grin at her.

Esme's face lights up, "Mrs. Cope is still here? How wonderful," clapping her hands like a little girl. Her hands reach up to Edwards face and she kisses his cheeks. "I'm so happy you're safe and look well, Edward. I've missed you terribly, but we'll talk more on this later. I love you." And off she goes in search of Mrs. Cope.

Carlisle chuckles, his eyes following after his wife and then he looks back to Edward. "What's on your agenda, Son?"

"I was on my way to see what Emmett had planned for me to do in the fields. But, since it's getting close to lunch, I can catch up with you a little, if you'd like," Edward smiles at his father.

"No, any catch up we do will have to have your mother present. She'll ask a million questions and I don't want you to have to repeat yourself again. Let's go see what Emmett will have us do after lunch and maybe you can show me around a little," Carlisle compromises. He walks back to his car, taking off his jacket and untying his tie.

Edward looks at Tanya for a moment, and then back to me, "I'll see you later," brushing a quick kiss against my lips. With a small smile, he nods to Tanya, then meets Carlisle by the car and they start their walk into the fields with an arm around the each other's shoulders.

Tanya and I are left on the veranda as we both watch Edward and Carlisle walk away. "He loves you, it's written clearly across his face for all to see," Tanya sighs wistfully. I remain quiet, neither confirming nor denying her words. It's merely a statement of fact. She pulls herself out of whatever past thoughts run through her mind and then with resolve, smiles earnestly at me. "I don't know a thing about cooking or baking, but I would like to lend a hand where I can."

Tanya definitely fits the part of a lady of leisure. But with so many mouths to feed with the new additions, we can always use the help. "I will never say no to such a generous proposal when feeding over thirty people." Tanya's eyes become huge at the guest count, as she follows me into the house. "So if you really want to, follow me. But if it becomes too much, please feel free to enjoy the parlor. We have a radio you can listen to or the library has many a variety of books," I offer as I point out the various rooms.

When we reach the kitchen, the noise level is of a higher volume with Mrs. Cope and Esme revisiting times past, regaling Alice, Rosalie and Leah with their stories. Laughter abounds and introductions are made for Tanya.

Rosalie takes Tanya under her wing at the bread table, while Leah moves over to the vegetable area, preparing various casseroles and such for both lunch and dinner. Alice is making tantalizing desserts while Mrs. Cope and Esme are preparing the stews and roasts. We recently had purchased a few extra steers and pigs with the increase in laborers. I join Leah to work on the casseroles while watching and listening to all that's spoken. Everything is working like clockwork.

Before lunch is ready to be served. I walk outside and start pulling picnic tables and carrying benches from a shed. It's such a beautiful day, I want to eat outdoors. I'm setting them up by the well, under the oak trees which stand near it, when Esme comes out to help. She brushes aside my idea for her to relax. After we bring out the rest of the tables and the benches, Esme pulls me down by my hand, to sit with her. I can tell she has something on her mind and I hope it isn't disapproval.

Esme reading my eyes, smiles at me gently. "I'm just going to blurt this out. It's obvious my son loves you, Bella, and I honestly couldn't be happier. I've never seen him so alive and relaxed. I have to tell you," she looks down at our joined hands, and then out towards the open fields, "Your mother and I were playing matchmaker, with the hope that you two would become a couple," she sighs with her memories of Renee.

Then her gaze returns to me. "I don't know everything that's happened, but I will, so I will be patient. But what's important for you to know right now is—Tanya begged to come on this trip. She feels guilty about something and won't confide in us as to what it is. She wants to tell Edward personally. Whatever it is, just know, there was never any love he felt for her. Their relationship ended in fact, on the day your parents arrived." She smiles ruefully. "Carlisle and I were over joyed. She was a different person then and is more…" she pauses, as if searching for the right word, "tolerable now, but it doesn't change the fact, I'm elated you and Edward are together."

Again, I'm emotionally caught off guard and all I can do is hug her. "Thank you. I love him so much. I'm glad both my mother and you approve." Renee's approval meant so much to me, and to hear Esme say she would have been— words can't be expressed.

"Well, I feel better now clearing the air between us. Let's get the food on the table. Can I ring the bell?" An impish grin appearing on her face. I happily nod and follow her into the house.

H~~H

At lunch, all the rest of the introductions are made. Carlisle and Esme, when meeting everyone, told them a little bit about what they'd heard about each one of them. Knowing that Charlie and Renee had spoken highly of them made the beginning of our lunch sentimental. Jasper is the only one Carlisle and Esme didn't know anything about. Edward takes the opportunity to reveal his story to his parents. Both Carlisle and Esme understand his reasoning's for not contacting them but are still disappointed he didn't. So much stress and fear had consumed their lives until they received his letter. However, they're in awe of what Jasper and Edward accomplished for all of us.

Edward, Jasper and Carlisle are currently discussing the potential of continuing the Pawn Shop or creating a likewise business here in our area.

Alice, Mrs. Cope and Esme are talking about all things pertaining to the house, cooking and Renee and Charlie. Rosalie, Emmett and Leah are in discussions I can't quite hear. Then I notice at the far end of the table, Seth with a look of adulation in his eyes and Tanya with a shy, gentle gaze are quietly enjoying their own conversation. I've never seen Seth so affected before. Looking at all these people, some I have known for what seems like forever and those who are new to the table, at how happy and comfortable they all seem to be, brings a smile to my face.

Edward, noticing my introspective state, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close, whispering in my ear, "What are you thinking about with that lovely smile on your face?"

"I'm happy, looking at everyone who's sitting here, enjoying the meal and the conversations. Everyone melds together so effortlessly. It brings me joy," I answer truthfully.

Edward looks at everyone and sees the same things I do. He looks back to me, "This is all because of you, Bella. You are the bond which held everyone together during the hard times. You're the one who continues to give love, hope and peace of mind during the good times. I don't think one person here, would have been better off on their own, without you in their lives. You're the creator of a family, where none existed before, and to be a part of it brings endless solace," he then adds, "It's one of the many reasons I love so much about you." He pulls me in closer and kisses my lips gently.

His words are so astonishing to me; I hadn't noticed the table had grown silent. So, when I look around and realize everyone was listening to Edward's words, some with tears in their own eyes, I'm surprised to see, all of them are in agreement.

I'm getting more emotional by the second and luckily Emmett breaks it with his wicked grin agreeing, "Yeah Bella, what he said." Raising his cup in the air he finishes with, "Cheers!" Causing everyone to laugh and toast the table.

H~~H

After lunch is finished, everyone helps with clearing the food and dishes back into the house. Alice and I decide we'll let Esme and Carlisle use our parent's room. We've always kept it clean but neither one of us had ever wanted to use it as ours. Esme and Tanya follow us upstairs while the men go off into the fields. Since Carlisle had worked with Charlie years ago, he quickly pulled out a change of clothes from his luggage in the car. Dressed in crisp new jeans, work shirt, and his old boots from his time here before, he walked with excitement in his step. Alice generously gave up her room for Tanya even though I offered mine.

Esme didn't seem to bat an eye, when I acknowledged I slept in Edward's room or Alice slept in Jasper's. Tanya never said anything except a murmured, "Thank you for being so accommodating." Once the rooms are aired out; fresh linens on the beds and extra towels in the bathrooms, drawers and closets cleared to make room for the guest's items, we all return downstairs to gather their luggage to deposit them in their rooms.

Neither woman required any help in putting away their belongings. As Alice and I are heading downstairs, Tanya pokes her head out of her room. "Bella, can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

Alice squeezes my arm in reassurance, continuing down, while I walk into her room. Tanya shuts the door softly behind me. "Bella, I want to ask your permission so I can speak to Edward privately."

"Tanya, Edward is the only one who can give you a private audience. I'm not his keeper," I'm confused why she would even ask me.

"Oh, but you are Bella. You are the keeper of his heart and he would never speak to me alone without your permission," she explains with no malice in her voice or words.

"That may be true in part, but as I said, it's not mine to give," I counter quietly. If he wants to hear what she has to say, it's not my business. If he chooses to tell me about it, than that too is his decision.

"Bella, I know you've figured out we have a history. He ended it with me being, well, with me being a royal bitch," she huffs to herself and then shakes her head, clearing the memories. "How about this, I must speak to Edward, but maybe it would be better if you're there also. It's important I speak what needs to be said or it will fester inside me forever," she compromises, pleading with her eyes for me to agree.

Whatever is bothering her is vital to her well-being. It's clearly written all over her saddened features. Because I will never impose on Edward's personal matters, I compromise also. "If Edward wants to speak with you, so be it, and if he wants me there, I will be."

Tanya looks at me and then inclines her head, "You're an interesting woman, Bella Swan. I can see why Edward looks at you as if you hand painted all the stars in the sky. Someday, I hope I'll have someone love me as completely as he does you. And, I hope in time, you may someday allow me to be part of your life. I can learn a lot from someone like you."

I'm speechless, I can only look at this woman, who has only been in my home for a few hours and gives me such compliments. There's no guile in her words or contrived expressions in her features. She speaks what she sees as the truth and I'm humbled.

Finally, I'm able to murmur, "Thank you, Tanya. When you've finished unpacking feel free to rest, use the library, parlor or join us in the kitchen as we prepare the evening meal."

H~~H

Neither Esme nor Tanya spends much time unpacking. Both are changed in more comfortable clothes and downstairs helping with the cleaning of dishes and pans and then the dinner preparations within ten minutes. Later on in the day, I'm outside barbequing beef and pork ribs, with Esme beside me recalling the adventures she and Carlisle had with my parents while in Europe. She truly misses them.

She reveals how they had heard about their passing from the Captain of their ship and had sent countless correspondence, only to never hear from us. I enlighten her about Jacob Black. How his seemingly eager helping hand was also a betrayal, in the larger scheme of things.

Esme is shocked when I tell her about the fire in the office which prevented any possible communication regarding the sale of the cotton. She and I both have tears when I emotionally explain about Alice's haunted nights and soundless days, catching her up to date with everything else which occurred. Finally, I say ruefully, "My emotions are having their way with me today. I don't think I've been this teary eyed this since my parent's died."

"Bella, you and Alice have been through so much in such a short period of time. All of you have. It's understandable when you relive it all in one afternoon—it's bound to affect you. Add to it, your suspensions of Jacob Black purposefully keeping our letters from you, now being confirmed, well I'm very much with you on the emotional scale," she sighs as blows out her breath.

"I've held my son today, who is alive and well, when he's been missing for over a year and the fears I lived with. I've met Charlie and Renee's daughters when I never thought I would. You are Edward's beautiful, loving and kind girlfriend. And I find out you weren't ignoring or blaming Carlisle and I for your loss, from lack of your correspondence," she finishes with happiness in her voice.

H~~H

Right before dinner is to be served, Esme helps me add an additional leaf to our ever expanding dining table. Dinner is lively mix of conversation and laughter. Carlisle and Esme are completely at ease with everyone.

Esme's eyes are full of motherly love, staying for the most part on Edward. It's as if she can't get over the fact he's actually sitting here across from her.

Carlisle engages in various conversations but he mostly observes our diverse little group. By his eyes, you can tell he is amazed and amused at how well we all get along or complement each other. I ask him at one point what his thoughts are. He smiles, "I feel like I am looking at individual puzzle pieces but when interlocked, create a wonderful picture which depicts family. It's so remarkable, viewing everyone at this table. I truly hope Esme and I will become enmeshed in it someday."

Looking again at everyone at the table, I agree. I reach across the table, putting my hand on his forearm and smile. "You already are."

Carlisle pats my arm and wears a contented smile. "Thank you, Bella. It means the world to us."

H~~H

After dinner, with a crowded parlor, Tanya approaches Edward. I don't listen to their conversation but less than a minute later, Edward, looking uncomfortable, comes over to me and holds out his hand.

"Come with me, please, I don't know what she needs to say, but I know I don't want to hear it alone," he anxiously states. I place my hand in his and he squeezes it tightly.

Instead of the library, where Edward intended, I tug on his hand and lead him to the staircase. Tanya follows as we make our way into Alice and my sitting room. I close all the doors for privacy and Tanya settles on the settee while Edward sits in a large comfy chair. I move towards the settee, but he takes my hand and pulls me onto his lap, encircling me in his arms, his chin resting on my shoulder.

Tanya smiles at us and affirms, "I'm truly happy for you Edward. Bella is wonderful and I wish you all the happiness in the world." Then her expression falls as she continues, "That wasn't the case, as you well know, when I left your house the night the Swan's arrived," she stares off to a painting of cotton plants on the wall, recalling a time long past. She regains her composure, "No, I believe I used the words, 'you will pay for this,' if I recall correctly," she reminds him in a huff.

Edward remains silent, but tightens his hold on me, as she looks at him. "I'll just say this as quickly as possible, and I'm telling you now, how sorry I am for what I did and what I'm about to say." She takes a few deep calming breaths, and then forges on, "I was so angry at you for thwarting my plans at marriage. You were right, neither of us loved the other, but my parents pushed me so hard and would have been so pleased. We would have made a stunning couple to the outside world. We would have probably lasted no more than a year but you were the 'perfect catch', so I had to try for them." She shakes her head at her own wayward ideas.

Taking a few more deep breaths, she continues, "I was still so angry, even days later, when Aro came to visit. I told him what occurred and how I wished you ill tidings. He has always envied you, hence he despised you. He said he had a perfect plan, and at the time, I wanted vengeance. He has a cousin who lives here in the States. I had heard at your dinner table, that night, when you would be traveling here with the Swans. He wrote to his cousin to set up an ambush. You were to be robbed." Edward hisses, while I gasp at her confession. He holds me tighter to him and buries his head into my neck for a few moments. His breathing heavy as he tries to regain his composure.

"It was my hope, you would get over this need you had to visit the Swan's, or more exactly, his desire to meet you Bella." She looks directly at me as his head snaps back up. She continues while looking at Edward. "I wanted you to return home; despising your unwelcome to the States. I wanted you to come back to me, begging with hat in hand." She pauses as she remembers her errant idea and exhales loudly. "After seeing you again at Christmas time, I realized you had entirely moved on and it seemed you had changed also. I don't know, maybe it was as if you grew up, and there would never be any us, no matter how I schemed," she shrugs her shoulders.

"It was then, I no longer felt the need for revenge, but when I told Aro to call it off, he told me it was too late. We fought and he became physically violent. I was bruised so badly in the ribs I couldn't move for days. I stayed in my room alone, keeping the staff at bay. My parents had left for France earlier on Christmas day for a month, so they never knew what happened.

It took me over a week to be well enough to go to your house and warn you but by then your parents said you had already left. I waited, thinking that I would hear from our various acquaintances about your return, but it never happened." She sighs, taking a fresh gulp of air, lost in her memories, trying to keep her tears from falling. "A month later, I got my courage up and returned to your house, hoping to find you had returned and somehow I missed word. What I found, was your parents completely devastated. Not only had the Swan's been murdered, but you were missing. You just vanished into thin air."

Her breathing becomes quicker, as she tries to continue, while reliving the anguish of Carlisle and Esme's pain and her own. "You were missing or dead and it was my fault. When I left your parent's house, I was in such a daze, at one point I was walking in the middle of the street and was almost hit by a car and I won't have cared. I had blood on my hands for all I knew." She stares down at them as if visualizing it to be true.

Her eyes are steady with resolve when she holds Edward's gaze again. "I'm not asking for your forgiveness Edward. What I did was reprehensible and I deserve any punishment you deem fit, whether it be notifying the police or whatever. I'm so very sorry," she finishes with tears in her eyes and voice.

The room is silent except for the quiet soft sounds of Tanya's crying as she tries to catch her breath and regain control. I have no idea what Edward is thinking. I can only think his thoughts are running the gamut from; how could she do it, she tried to stop it, she paid for it with violence and pain, thinking she may have been responsible for his death, and finally the courage to face her intended pray and tell the truth.

These are the ones circling mine.

Edward finally sits up straighter, kisses the top of my head and moves me so I'm no longer in front of him but he has one arm holding me to him about the waist and with my legs across his. With his free hand he rubs his face and then runs it through his hair. He takes a few calming breaths and questions quietly, "Do you know the name of Aro's cousin?"

Tanya looks at Edward and replies, "James de Sade."

"Do you know where he lives and if he's married?" Edward inquires.

"Louisiana with a wife by the name of Victoria," Tanya swiftly returns.

"Did you ever report Aro for the injuries you received?" Edward demands.

"No, he threatened to do the same or worse if I opened my mouth. I don't know how bad he might have hurt me again and I needed to try to somehow find out if you were safe," she responds quickly.

Edward blows out a breath and takes a moment to calm down. "You've changed, what have you been doing for the last year and a half?" Edwards enquires softly.

Looking down again at her hands, she replies softly, "I have done many things on my road to redemption. I never told you but I own a house on the outskirts of London. I inherited it from my grandparents. The neighborhood changed and they found the area less than desirable. I opened it up for abused women with children. I run it and have hired various people from doctors, who set broken bones and medicines to relieve pain. One doctor tries to help the women become stronger mentally, in the hope they never allow themselves to be victims ever again. I have a teacher in place for the children; to learn to read and write and understand right from wrong. I've spoken or taken care of each of the women and children myself. I've discovered I like myself better as a giver than a taker," Tanya proclaims with great pride.

"Should anything happen to me, there are enough funds to provide for the home for ten years or longer if donations are made. It's my contingency plan, should you choose incarceration as my punishment," she finishes with no pleading for leniency.

Edward chuckles to himself and I feel the vibrations flow through me. I look up at him questioningly, as does Tanya. Edward looks down at me with a smile on his face and kisses my nose quickly.

He looks back to Tanya and smiles at her. "We both have grown up from the spoilt, arrogant people we were, haven't we?" Edward summarizes, chuckling again.

A small smile graces her lips, "I know I have. But hearing your story at lunch today reminds me I still have a ways to go. What you did for Bella, Alice and these other people is astonishing. But what you had to endure to get here, _is my fault_. Again, let me say, how sorry I am," she humbly replies.

"It may be true, and my parents suffered needlessly, but I found I needed the lesson in humility. I also met Jasper, who has become the best friend I've ever known. It may never have happened without your hand in my fate," he affirms with a smile on his face, then adds, "Bella and I were destined to be together, whether it was at the beginning of my time here in the States or not, but she found me when she needed me most and I was ready for forever," he declares softly looking at me.

Tanya, looking genuinely happy for us but also slightly uncomfortable finally inquires, "So where does this leave us Edward. Should I pack the few things I unpacked and find a hotel, to wait for the investigators?"

He sighs, "No Tanya, you don't have to do any of those things tonight. I won't be contacting the authorities. As far as what's been said in this room, I don't think I'll tell another soul. As far as your continued stay, it's not up to me. This is Bella's home and it's her choice should you stay or go."

"Tanya, you're welcome to stay as long as you like. I think you've redeemed yourself with all your good works. I'm in awe of what you've done for those women," I compliment her well-deserved accomplishments.

Edward hugs me again and kisses my hair. Tanya looks at the both of us with tears of relief in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips. "Thank you both, so much. You have given me my life back and I will be forever grateful," she responds standing up. I get up from Edward's lap and too stands. Tanya walks over to us and embraces us together, all the while whispering, thank you, again and again. Just as we pull apart, there's a knock at the door. I call out, "Come in."

Seth pokes his head in. His eyes travel to our little circle and they land and remain on Tanya. "Hey, I was wondering if you all were done with your little meeting. We want to play some music and hope you'll come down and listen."

"We were just finishing up, Seth. Why don't you two go ahead? Bella and I will follow shortly," Edward suggests.

"Great! Let's go Tanya," Seth agrees, holding his hand out for her to take, with a charming smile on his face.

"Thank you again, both of you. See you downstairs," Tanya smiles softly, while moving towards Seth. She takes his hand and out they go.

As soon as the door closes I have to ask, "How are you?"

"I'm good. Even though I was the victim and now know I was set up, I can sympathize with her anxiety. I went through it daily, but I was able to focus on a goal. I achieved mine as, she did hers. We both confessed to the most important person who we needed to it, her to me and me to you. We both have grown up and I got the most important thing. You," he smiles and bends to kiss me.

I wrap my arms around his neck with my fingers weaving through his hair and whisper onto his lips, "I think Seth is happy you have me too."

And I kiss him back, with all the love I possess.


	23. Hidden History

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**Thank you for the continued encouragement in reviews, pm's, followers and story favorites. If I missed any questions maybe this will answer them. The story will come back for more alone time with Bella and Edward. I hope you enjoy until next weekend. **

**Warning: This chapter mentions rape and a visual of murder. **

**Chapter 22**

**Hidden History**

**Early Summer - 1935**

**Edward**

The reunion yesterday with my parents, is a day which will live inside me with the fondest of memories. Yes, I know I worried them, in their opinion horribly, but I truly feel I did the right thing and they at least understand.

Seeing Tanya again was a surprise. My first thoughts were, she would try to create trouble between Bella and me, but thankfully, it never came to pass. In fact, she seems to genuinely like Bella very much and is happy for me in finding love and contentment in our relationship.

The story she told, with her original intent to bring me back to England, had me furious. At one point, I wanted Aro here, so he could feel the physical violence as much as he gave or worse. _I was livid_.

Luckily, I had Bella in front of me, calming me with her presence and soothing me by rubbing my arms. It was as if she were a shield, protecting me from myself, giving me the ability to listen to all Tanya had to say. It was also then, I recognized a complete change in Tanya's attitude and demeanor. She's no longer the vain, bitchy girl of a time past. No, she's become a humble and honest woman. Those two qualities look very good on her. Not as good as Bella, but then again, Bella excels in those qualities and more.

What's interesting, is watching Seth and Tanya together. He's a few years younger than her, but he's a hardworking, intelligent young man, who I think would do wonders for Tanya. She's very much enjoying his attentions and not in the little cat and mouse games she used to play so well.

No, she's actually listening to what he says and seems interested in him as a person. _She has grown up._

Yesterday afternoon, Emmett and I, caught my dad up on the rest of the Swan sisters saga; how Seth and Leah came to reside with them. Alice's withdrawal from life and her nightmares. The fire in the office. Mr. McCarty's death. Mister Black's marriage contract. The selling of the cotton for pennies to pay the workers. Royce King and his proposal in lieu of the taxes. The missing mail coming full circle to meeting Bella at the Pawn Shop.

My dad's face was a cacophony of emotions; sorrow, anger, insult and awe at the fortitude of these young people and their will to survive with their honor in tacked.

Bella couldn't have recognized it, but last night when she welcomed my parents into the fold of this unique family, was probably one of the greatest honors she could have bestowed upon them.

But my greatest joy is they seem to already love Bella. Never in the past, were my parents happy with my choices of the females in my life, and I can't blame them. All of the women were gold diggers looking for a free ride into the lap of luxury. Anyone, who takes two seconds to really get to know Bella, will see she's not like that, in any way, shape or form.

When Bella and I retired to our room, I showed her how much I loved her. I massaged and covered every part of her lovely body with kisses.

Worshiping her until she reached her pleasure. Then I turned her over to continue with my worship. No longer able to control my desire, I pushed her knees up and entered her, surrounding her with my body as I was enclosed in her warmth. But, it wasn't enough. I needed her touch and to kiss her luscious mouth. Sitting back on my knees never losing our union, I pulled her up to sit on my thighs in front of me, and kissed her deeply. Her head resting on my shoulder, with one hand stretched up behind her as she weaved her fingers into my hair; while the other roamed down to feel our connection. My hands wandered from her neck, to her full breast, her flat stomach, her silky mound and pleasure spot, never losing the rhythm of our dance that's as old as time. Our release was simultaneous, as we called each other's name, into each other's mouths. We fell to the bed with my arms surrounding her, never letting her go, still buried deep inside her, falling asleep—coupled.

H~~H

My parents don't question our sleeping arrangements because as I explained to my dad this morning, "She's mine, and soon she will be mine in all ways. I'm going to marry her. She's my evermore."

My dad clasped my shoulder. "We couldn't be happier for you son, and for Bella. She loves you, only you, not what your family brings to the table."

_It's true!_ I don't need to be convinced, if I had nothing but a penny to my name, Bella would still love me. And to me, this is the supreme gift of love, to be loved for oneself.

H~~H

No one has been in the office for months. "Bella, if it's fine with you, can I see the damage to the office and possibly take on the project of repairing it?" offers Carlisle.

"That's fine, we haven't had time or the funds to repair it, but we do now," she looks at me and smiles gently, sending my heart into a quicker rhythm. "Let me know what the costs are, so I can either reimburse you or I'll pay for it and pick up the materials myself," Bella finishes her thoughts.

My dad quirks his brow at her and she's momentarily still, looking at him. She turns to me and I quirk my brow at her, wondering what this is about. She laughs that low sultry sound, which warms my soul, and I then understand—I got my brow quirk from my dad. I embrace her, while whispering in her ear, "You had me worried there for a second, eyeing my dad that way." She chuckles into my chest, sending the laugh vibrating through me.

She looks up at me, kisses me gently, whispering into my mouth, "It was the brow. Like father, like son. No need to worry." And I just grin widely. Then she runs off to help with the breakfast.

H~~H

My dad and I walk into the office for the first time. Even though the window is open and it's been months since the fire occurred, the smoke smell still lingers. The walls had paneling on them which are now warped and would need to be replaced. I don't think even cleaning them would remove the smell. Pictures which used to hang on the walls are now empty, burned out twisted frames. The desk still stood near the corner by the window but was no longer usable.

Carlisle opened one of the file cabinet drawers, all the papers inside were turned to ash, as he let out sign of dismay.

He moves over to the desk and one of the floor boards squeaks loudly. "Be careful dad, we don't know how sound the flooring is," I remind him.

He nods in understanding and opens a couple more of the drawers. He gasps at one he wrenched open and pulls out a handful of burnt $20 bills.

My stomach plummets; this money could have been used in so many ways. Again, I'm in awe of the survival skills of Bella, Alice and everyone who lives here.

The floor board groans again when my dad shifts his weight. He starts rocking back and forth while looking at it. His eyes catch something under the desk. He leans down and brings up several pieces of broken glass and a thick burnt up rag. He studies it for a moment. "Well, I think we know how the fire started," he nods his head at the pieces as I approach him.

I squat down to look under the desk and see more pieces of glass and notice the flames from the fire reach up under the desk, with a heavy residue of smoke under it. I'm not a fire investigator, but this picture paints a thousand words.

My dad moved to the other end of the desk while I stand up again only to see the burnt money. _What a waste!_ My weight shifts and the board lets out a squeak again. Looking down at it, I notice it's a slimmer board then the rest. Maybe the heat from the fire shrunk it. I move back and reach my fingers between the floor boards and try to pull up. My dad does the same from his side. When we both pull, the board comes up easily and we find a metal box hidden underneath. My dad picks it up and sets in on the desk. It had to of belonged to Charlie; the initials of CS are etched on the front and it's locked. My dad pulls out his Swiss officer's knife and uses the screwdriver piece, inserting and putting pressure on the lock.

After several minutes of toying with the lock; it finally opens.

Inside are intact documents which survived the fire. Scanning briefly through them, they all seem to be regarding Billy Black and family. There are many pages to read through, but Bella comes into the office informing us breakfast is ready. She approaches the desk and sees the box with the papers. "What have you found there?" her curiosity peaked.

I move around the desk and put my arms around her, "It looks like Charlie had information regarding Billy Black. It was under one of the floor boards. We also know how the fire started. There is glass from a bottle that must have been filled with a flammable liquid with a rag that would have been used to ignite the fluid." She stiffens in my arms and I don't blame her. The whole house could have caught fire with them inside.

Maybe we had the same thought, because we both shiver and hold each other tight.

"Bella, do you mind if I read these papers and see what Charlie felt was necessary to hide," my dad mumbles as his attention still on the papers.

"No, please do, I have too many things to do and right now I don't want to think about it. Having it confirmed, that the fire was intentional, is enough for today," her sadness evident in her voice.

I tighten my hold on her, trying to give her solace. "Let's go have some breakfast and get some work done. It'll take your mind off this for a while," I suggest and she readily agrees as we all leave the room; with the box, glass and rag left sitting on top of the burnt out desk.

H~~H

**Carlisle**

The moment the road ended reaching the side of the veranda and I saw the man at the door; my lungs fill, my heart beats, my mind clears, and my body feels alive again. My son lives, breathes and is well. Sixteen months with no communication; forgetting to breath, heartbroken, mind in a fog, feeling like the walking dead.

When we received his letter, it gave us hope. It looked to be his handwriting and his words but until he was in front of me, I couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. Esme and I were of the same mind set. Minutes later, our housekeeper announced, 'Tanya, was at the door'. We couldn't contain our excitement. She insisted on coming with us, she had to see him for herself. She wouldn't explain her reasons why but she was desperate to see he was actually alive and well. She had been stopping by, giving support to us almost weekly. There has been a complete reversal in Tanya's attitude which is quite pleasant. She's no longer the haughty, prima donna we knew from the past.

My flagship wouldn't be coming into port for another week. Between the unloading, checking for any repairs, loading for the next delivery I was obligated under contract to fulfill, it was an additional two weeks before we were able to set sail. I refuse to travel on any ships other than mine.

Britannic HMHS-RMS Lusitania-RMS Titanic, all British ships to have sunk for various reasons. I know how fast the Cullen ships are; how well-built and how well crewed they are. They're the best and I needed the best for Esme, myself and now Tanya. So we waited _impatiently._

And now I have my son back. He has reemerged from the lost and unknown. He too has changed for the better and I know these changes to be permanent. He's no longer the popinjay, jaded, egotistical young man of the past. Yes, I knew of my son's brashness, and like any parent, hoped for a change for the better. I've received it in spades.

Even though he could have found a way to contact us, I can't help but feel proud of what he accomplished for the Swan sisters and for himself. His friendship with Jasper is inspirational.

Bella and Edward paired. I smile, remembering Charlie with his honest frankness and Renee with her ability to understand people. When our children were discussed, Renee once sighed, "It will be wonderful when Edward visits. He and Bella will get along famously," she smiled ruefully. "This is something I never thought I would say, but he would complement her beautifully."

Charlie had raised a brow at her, contemplated her words for a moment and nodded his head, "You're right. I can see exactly what you mean. She would ground him and give him focus. He's driven, strong of mind and spirit, which would complement her as an equal. His worldliness would enlighten her view in aspects other than the land. Open her eyes to the joys of life," he finished, smiling at Renee. And it seems, they were right. _Oh, how I miss them_.

Bella, she's such a contrast to the young women I've been accustomed to meeting from Edward, our friends and acquaintances. Whereas, they would spend time primping, socializing with the "who's who" of society, soiree's and dances. Bella runs a plantation. Overseeing her family garden, livestock, and cooks, cleans, while hosting and entertaining her guests, in jeans, boots and blouse, makeup free, with her hair pulled back. No job is beneath her. A more natural, caring, intelligent and gorgeous young woman, I have never seen. A man would have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not see the love, respect and pride which radiates from Edward, from every part of his being, for her.

Standing here in this burnt out office, one can only think that the Black family is responsible. Especially, after finding out that Bella and Alice never received our letters. "Esme was right," I murmur aloud and sigh, shaking my head in sadness. We should have come as soon as we heard about Charlie and Renee. We would have learned about so many things, the missing money, which I would have gladly replaced, ensured communication, but more importantly offered them comfort. We could have also expanded our own private search for Edward. The private eye we hired never found the Cullen name past the docks and now I understand why.

But these retrospect's gets me nowhere in gaining a glimpse of what Charlie had hidden. I pick up the glass and rag and put them in a small basket, for possible evidence, should the police become involved, and take it, along with the box to the library.

I open the metal box and retrieve the papers, sorting them into two piles; one pertaining to the Black Family and one which chronicles the origins of the Mafia in the southern States.

From the pages concerning the Mafia, I learn the first published account of what would evolve into the Mafia in the United States, came in the spring of 1869. Printed in the New Orleans Times, it was reported the city's Second District had become overrun by, "well-known and notorious Sicilian murderers, counterfeiters and burglars, who, in the last month, have formed a sort of general co-partnership for the plunder and disturbance of the city." Charlie also notated; immigration from Southern Italy to the Americas was primarily to Brazil and Argentina, and that New Orleans had a heavy volume of port traffic to and from both locales.

Charlie had written: _There is a name given in Italian neighborhoods for an extortion method called the Black Hand. It is known, if the Black Hand was ineffective in achieving its goals; then arson or murder would accomplish the task. Although the Black Hand is not a secret society, there are many small Black Hand gangs who remain incognito but are the deadliest._

_The first known Sicilian Mafia member, was Giuseppe Esposito, to immigrate to the States. He and six other Sicilians fled Italy after murdering eleven wealthy landowners, the chancellor and a vice chancellor of a Sicilian province. He was arrested in 1881, in New Orleans and extradited to Italy but many of his cohorts remained, splitting into two factions, the Matranga and Provenzano._

There is a clipping from the New Orleans Times, dated October 15, 1890, which reported New Orleans Police Superintendent David Hennessy was murdered execution-style. It is still unclear whether Italian immigrants actually killed him or whether it was a frame-up by nativists against the reviled underclass immigrants. There are other clippings, one reporting hundreds of Sicilians were arrested on mostly baseless charges and nineteen were eventually indicted for the murder. Another summarized; acquittals followed, with rumors of bribed and intimidated witnesses.

The outraged citizens of New Orleans organized a lynch mob after the acquittals, and proceeded to kill eleven of the nineteen defendants. Two were hanged, nine were shot, and the remaining eight escaped. The lynching was the largest mass lynching in American history.

Charlie wrote: _Since prohibition is about to end, organized crime groups are confronted with an impasse and can no longer maintain the high profits they had acquired through the 1920's. The smarter of the organized crime groups have acted prudently and expanded into other ventures such as unions, construction, black marketing, sanitation and drug trafficking. Tobacco is now on the black market list._

The last clipping was dated May 3, 1932, and read; Mobster sent to Atlanta Prison. Chicago Outfit mob boss Alphonse "Al," "Scarface" Capone is sent to the Atlanta Federal Penitentiary after his 1931 conviction for tax evasion.

I put the clippings and hand written notes back in the box. Musing over my history lesson of the Mafia, it's very clear Charlie believes the Blacks have connections with the underground. Extortion, arson and murder do come into play with what I've learned from the stories related in the past twenty four hours.

I reach for the second pile of documents putting them in chronological order and I notice two separate styles of handwriting. The first is dated August 6, 1900 and read as an affidavit. It states; On July 2, 1898, I, Charles M. Swan, Jr. met Mr. William J. Black also known as Master Black in the town of Savannah, outside the grocery and was introduced formally to Charles Matranga, an old family friend visiting from New Orleans. Informally, I was told by Master Black with a snicker, I could call him "Millionaire Charlie." The conversation was brief with general greetings and farewells.

The letter lists two other times Mr. Matranga was spotted with Master Black and both referenced as being after the Clearwater fire. The first sighting was with Mr. King, owner of a newly created bank in Savannah, in a bar, in the late afternoon hour .The second was on the street, with Mr. King also present, shaking hands when Master Black became the official owner of the Clearwater property. It's then signed, and dated by Charles M. Swan, Jr.

Notes are attached, with thoughts of Mr. Swan's, wishing he had further evidence to prove the fire was not an accident. That he knows that the Black Hand was involved. But meetings and sightings weren't enough for accusations to turn into convictions.

On one of Charlie's notes he states: _I briefly met an older Mr. Matranga when Billy was no longer selling to the Cullen's. _He wrote of the chilling statement by Billy Black;_ Billy, seemed to find it amusing when he said with great pleasure in front of Mr. Matranga, "You will regret not continuing our partnership, Charlie". _Charlie in thick black letters wrote:**_ THERE WAS NO PARTNERSHIP!_**

The final document is a Last Will and Testament for Charles M. Swan III and Renee Swan nee Brandon, distributing the Swan home to Bella to continue overseeing the Plantation, while the Brandon home is left to Alice. All profits from crops, heirlooms, etc. to be divided equally between the two.

I think I must have sat here just staring at the papers in front of me for ten minutes. My mind running over what I knew and have now learned.

The fire on the Clearwater's property, the murders of Charlie and Renee, the fire in the office and the contract Billy would have forced Bella to sign in order to sell her cotton. It's all so cloak and dagger, but so very real. The Blacks, by all accounts, are definitely tied to the Mafia.

H~~H

Alice pokes her head into the library and smiles at me. Then her smile fades as I must look as concerned as I feel. _It's not over with the Blacks._

Everyone in this home is in possible danger, now including Esme and myself, if it's known we're here.

Alice closes the door, walks to the table and takes a seat across from me, while she looks from me, to the papers, then back to me again. Her eyes tear up as she quietly comments, "You think the Blacks are responsible for my parent's death." It's not a question but a statement of fact.

"I have no positive proof Alice. I want to do some more research," I reply gently and honesty. 'Conjecture does not make evidence,' as Charlie's father stated.

"My dreams," she start—then stops.

"Can you talk about them Alice? What do you see in your dreams? It can help to speak the words out loud. To finally let it go," I gently inquire, wanting to help her release the pain that the nightmares cause.

"I haven't told anyone," she shivers, "I've tried to keep it inside, because it won't make any difference to the outcome, but maybe your right and I might find some peace." She sighs, then takes a deep calming breathe, then releases it.

"I'm sitting in a chair as if I'm watching a play. It's misty in front of me but then the fog lifts and I can clearly see my parent's on the side of the road, happy and laughing outside of a car. My mother is holding an umbrella, because it's sprinkling, as she teases my dad about changing the tire when it's so dark," a wistful smile crosses her features.

"Then a dark shadow crosses over them. At first, they smile as if friends have arrived or maybe help. Then I see a look of horror in their eyes as they cling to each other desperately. Two pair of black, soulless, empty eyes are gazing back at them," she begins to cry softly and again catches her breathe.

"I see a sudden flash of lightning, then another as I hear loud, rolling thunder and watch as wisps of smoke are dancing towards my parents. In slow motion, they both fall to the ground. I realize its gun fire. I watch their faces paling. Their blood leaching into the ground from their heads, and their eyes are now blank lifeless stares. I can't take my eyes away from my parents lying on the ground but I can't move from seat to try to help them either. It's as if a force is preventing me from running to them." Her breath hitches as she struggles to go on.

I leave my seat, moving around the table. I pick her up gently from her seat and then I sit down cradling this haunted, young woman in my lap, as she silently cries onto my shoulder. How horrid it must be to dream of your parent's being murdered. I rub her back and whisper to her, "Let it go, it's okay to let it go."

After a few minutes pass, she regains control of herself, and then she chokingly continues, "There's blood splattered everywhere. I watch as the souls or ghosts of my parents rise and hover over their lifeless bodies. They're interlocked and swirl around the splatters of blood. At first, its bright red. Slowly the splatters migrate together to form a stream, increasing in size, as it becomes a raging river, gaining in power and momentum, as a large red wave crests, and I think it's going to break over me. I'm so afraid but I can't move and I can't scream. But it swerves suddenly. It becomes black as it crashes around the feet of the two men." She whispers, as she weeps gently onto my shoulder and then she continues, "It's the same dream which replays over and over again, multiple times a night. But as I dream it each time, it's as if it's new, trapping me in its world for what seems like forever." She cries softly onto my shoulder. I have tears of my own, slowly falling into her hair, as I hold her tightly. The images she related, are now a visual, forever locked in my head and I hope I never see them in my dreams.

Once she's calm again, she murmurs, "That is until Bella first met Edward. It's as if my brain somehow saw Edward and Jasper as our saviors and has slowly given me my peace of mind back."

I hug her close to me, dismayed that she's suffered for so long with the reoccurring devastating nightmare which so accurately fits with some of the documents I just read. Yet, I find comfort they've ceased since Edward and Jasper have come into their lives. I start to believe maybe something good will come out of this discovery.

When she finally sits up, I look at her beautiful azure eyes, which are swollen and red—but hold gratitude. "Thank you for listening to me Carlisle. I don't want the pity or sadness I'll receive from everyone else, nor do I want those images which haunt me to haunt them. I'm not saying you aren't important, but you weren't here to witness the loss of Harry Clearwater, my parent's or Mr. McCarty," she sniffles with remorse.

"No offense taken Alice. Do you feel better talking about it?" She nods, yes, while still collecting herself. After a few minutes I softly ask, "How did Mr. Clearwater die?" I'm curious because I only knew he passed.

"It appears to have been a heart attack. Oh, I forgot, about a month or so before he died, he came here with an envelope for Charlie. He was nervous and reiterated the letter was for Charlie alone. He watched Bella put it in the safe and seemed to relax visibly. Maybe you'd like to read it?" she offers.

"I think, I'd like to, someone should at least. If you're sure it would be alright," I reply cautiously. What would Mr. Clearwater have to say to Charlie? It has to be related to the Blacks.

Alice, still on my lap, looks into my eyes and then hugs me tightly. "I'm glad you're here."

"Thank you, Alice. I'm so glad to be here," I hug her to me. These girls in such a short time have come to mean the world to me.

I glance at the door, spotting Bella leaning against the wall, eyes glistening with tears. I don't know how long she's been here but it's obvious she's heard a majority of the conversation. She smiles softly at me and then Alice turns to notice her also. "How much did you hear?" She asks remorse evident in her voice.

"Enough Alice. I'm glad you're no longer haunted and you were finally able to let it go." It's evident that Bella heard the whole conversation but responds with only love and comfort in her words. No pity present, which was what Alice feared.

Alice stands and they embrace each other, more words are unnecessary. Once they part, Bella excuses herself for a minute and returns with the envelope from Mr. Clearwater. She hands it to me and they walk together out of the library, closing the door quietly behind them.

I open the envelope which is only addressed "Charlie." Two pieces of paper are enclosed. I read the letter to Charlie first:

_Dear Charlie,_

_Ever since we were children, you have been my closet friend and someone I could count on. However, there are things I never told you which I'm rectifying now._

_As you know, my beloved Sue was one of the Black's housekeepers. She was assigned to keep Master Black comfortable, during his last remaining days, as cancer consumed his body. One day, as she was about to enter the opened door which lead into his room, she stopped when she heard an additional voice. She stayed outside the room, overhearing a conversation between Billy and Master Black. Master Black was explaining to Billy, of an associate by the name of Charles Matranga who had proven invaluable, time and time again. Master Black's hoarse voice could be heard saying, "He is the only other person, besides you, that knows everything about the Clearwater fire. In the safe, you will find his contact information. Remember to always save our home first. We always come first."_

_Sue turned to leave, after the shock wore off, only to have Billy come out of the room at the same time. She tried to act normal and asked how Master Black was and if she could do anything for him. Billy said, "My father is dead, I 'm now the Master here. How long have you been standing here, Sue?"_

_"I just came up, Sir," Sue answered. She said he seemed to take her at her word and asked her to come to his room. Not knowing what he wanted, she willing followed him in._

_He viciously raped her, Charlie. She was so ashamed when she told me what happened but she couldn't fight him off and her calls for help went unanswered. She was so traumatized, she refused to let me comfort her or seek vengeance for fear I might be killed. Months later, she found she was pregnant and as you know, Sue and the baby boy died in childbirth. I never told anyone it was Billy's child and if he suspected, he never gave any indications of caring. In my mind, Billy killed my wife both in spirit and body, on the day Master Black died._

_Enclosed is a contract I stole from Billy's safe. We were in a meeting recently, when he left the office quickly because a visitor was announced, by the name of Mr. Matranga, waiting for him downstairs. When Billy returned, I was reseating myself and was asked to meet with him later. I read this contract and it took all the strength I possessed to act as if nothing was wrong when we met again._

_I don't think I was very convincing or he found it missing. I now fear for my children and myself. If something should happen to me, I know you will watch over my children. I also warn you now Charlie, watch your back. Billy wants your lands as much as Master Black had wanted my families._

_Keep you and your family safe,_

_Your Friend Always,_

_Harry_

My heart clinched several times reading the letter. More prophetic words were never written. He did die and for Charlie and Renee, the warning was never received.

I unfolded the second paper, which is a contract between Master Black and Charles Matranga, dated, December 15, 1898. It details the location of the Clearwater property and his request for all members of the family to perish in a fire, for the fee of $1,000.00, to be paid in cash, after the job is complete. With the signature of, Master Black.

I gasp when I realize this information is enough to bring in the police. Here is proof the Blacks had connections to the mob and the possible person or persons involved in Charlie and Renee's deaths.

It all comes down to greed, plain and simple. I shake my head at the pain and loss it created.

H~~H

At lunch, with everyone in attendance, I try to be as concise as possible with what I discovered. Rage consumes the room, but everyone agrees we need to involve Detective Uley and Officer Call, immediately. Leah, anxious for something to do, to give her focus, volunteers to contact them. As she's about to leave Bella and Alice simultaneously tell her to be safe. Seth stops her, giving her a brief hug and telling her to only contact them and not to talk to anyone else. She eyes him and agrees by nodding her head, yes, firmly. I offer to go with her but she reiterates, "I'll be fine, I promise not to do anything stupid."

H~~H

Dinner is a quiet affair. Leah hasn't returned and we're all getting worried. After the dishes are cleared and cleaned, we take different positions either in the parlor or on the veranda. About an hour later, Bella and Edward enter into the parlor, with Leah and two men. Introductions are made and we all migrate into the library. I had a written summary of what I found from Charlie's box and from Harry Clearwater.

After both of them read the summary, Mr. Clearwater's letter along and the contract, they take a moment to absorb what's in front of them. Leah questions the investigators, "Is there a poison that can possibly mimic a heart attack?"

"You think your dad may have been poisoned," Detective Uley understanding immediately her question.

"It's possible isn't it? If Mister Black realized the letter was missing, he would have taken matters into his own hands, don't you think?" She argues back.

"If I was Billy Black, with as much to hide as he does, then yes, I guess he would," Detective Uley agrees. "I'll talk to the coroner and see if they took a blood sample before he was buried. They do it now, when there is no clear proof of death," he offers.

It's late into the evening and Officer Call stays the night in Bella's room, while Detective Uley stays the night in the spare room where Seth and Leah live.

I feel better going to bed, knowing there's additional protection, not only here, but with Seth and Leah. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, so I hold Esme tighter to me than usual all night, after we made sweet love.


	24. Conversations

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

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**Chapter 23**

**Conversations**

**Early Summer - 1935**

**Bella**

The happiness I felt the day before yesterday was replete when Edward and I went to our room and our love making was both playful and passionate.

Last night, it wasn't hard to understand why I was anxious. To think someone I have known all my life could be responsible for my parents' death was difficult to comprehend. The thought that this same person may also have been involved with Harry's demise and then, by involuntary actions, caused Mr. McCarty's, was overwhelming. Edward helped relieve my stress last night as he loved me slowly and tenderly.

But this morning, with an additional leaf added to our table, another piece of information was given to us by Detective Uley. He revealed the clue, which Renee had left in the wet bloodied ground, which was the single word, "Black."

He explained that, at first, it was thought she meant a person of color. But, they didn't discount the Black family as persons of interest when they met Jacob at the funeral. They have been quietly doing background checks but hadn't gained any breakthroughs, until last night. The accidental hunting death of Billy Black looked suspicious to them from the beginning. They wouldn't release any details, only now Jacob is their prime suspect in it also.

Our breakfast conversation concluded with the fact that Jacob would have to make a verbal confession, with witnesses present in order for it to hold up in court.

I cleared Edward's and my plates from the table, giving him more time to plan some sort of strategy and was surprised to see that the number of women was now equal to that of the men. For so long it was only Emmett and Seth, but now with the addition of Edward and Jasper, the scale is more level. I've noticed Seth and Tanya are becoming very well acquainted and Leah seems to hang on every word of Detective Uley's. The tide has changed; the raging waters of tidal waves, which kept crashing down on us relentlessly, have abated. Leaving only sparkling, gently rippling waters to calm and soothe our souls.

H~~H

Esme, Mrs. Cope, Rosalie and Alice all stay in the kitchen cleaning up and starting preparations for lunch. The garden needs attention and I need to work out the remainder of my stress. As I start weeding, I hear the back door open, then close. I look up to see Tanya standing on the back porch with her hands behind her back. She remains quiet as she watches me work.

"Did you need something Tanya, or just enjoying the fresh air?"

She smiles. "A little of both, I suppose. I am enjoying the fresh air, but I wonder if I could help with your garden and ask questions about it," she admits shyly.

With so much to do at this time of the year, I will accept any and all workers. With minimal instructions, we are quickly working well together; weeding, hoeing, thinning and watering. She explains that, on the shelter property, there is a play area for the children but also some unused extra space where she would like to plant a garden. Letting the women labor productively outdoors, working their bodies and minds while breathing fresh air, could enhance their self-esteem. I agree with her and explain what we grow, when we plant, harvest and how we preserve our bounty. Her idea sounds wonderful. I think at least half of the women, and maybe the children too, would enjoy and benefit from the experience.

When we're close to finishing, I realize how dirty her skirt is. "I can get most of those stains out. I forgot to warn you to wear only old clothes when gardening," I apologize.

She laughs lightly looking down at her dirty clothing. "It's nothing to worry about. I might have to go into town to purchase clothes and boots like yours—if I'm still welcome to stay."

"Of course, you're more than welcome to. You've been a tremendous help," I answer truthfully.

She blushes and then looks pensive. "If you would have known me before Bella, you would never have welcomed me. I was a horrible person. I look back and am so ashamed of how I looked down at others and thought so highly of myself. I'm so glad I met you as I am now. I like it here. I enjoy the companionship of the people who surround you on a daily basis. I like how no one person considers themselves above another. There is no jealousy between the women and no bragging between the men. Even though I've been here such a short time, I can feel the genuine caring you have for everyone who walks through your door. It's this warmth and graciousness I strive for now and how I want people to view me one day."

"Tanya, you do have it and more. Rosalie and Leah have both made mention of your willingness to help in whatever way possible. I've also heard Alice taught you how to milk the cows, and you took right to it. I did hear though, that the rooster bothered you until you yelled at it," I snicker, remembering the story.

She chuckles with me, but under her breath I hear, "That rooster better watch himself or he will be in a pot before he knows it."

I laugh out loud at this and a beautiful smile graces her face. Soon we both settle down. "So, you and Seth seem to be getting along very well. Is he another reason you might want to extend your stay? If it's none of my business, it's fine." _I'm so curious though!_

"Oh no, you're fine. I like Seth a lot. He's handsome, smart and a gentleman. But, he's younger than me by a few years. Though it doesn't bother me, it might bother his sister or others." She glances briefly at me, and then takes a deep breath before continuing quietly, "I was honest with him after dinner last night; about who I was, how Edward and I had been involved at one time, what I did, and what I've done since. His interest in me is obvious and, to my deep regret, I do know my way around men," she sighs ruefully. "I thought it only fair he should know my past so he had a chance to save his time."

"What did he say? Knowing Seth, I'm sure he was at first shocked by what you did, but like Edward and me, I'm sure he understands and appreciates the changes you've made and what you've accomplished." I'm positive I know Seth well.

"Once he listened to the story and understood it was what was being discussed in your sitting room, I think he felt more comfortable knowing I did, in fact, confess my sins. He understands I have a past and simply said, 'You can let the past delineate who you are, or you can learn from the past, take what you liked about yourself, make improvements where you want or need them to be and define a new and better you. It seems to me, you've already begun the journey.' Who says philosophical things like that at the age of eighteen?" She's still awestruck from their conversation.

"Seth!" I laugh, because this ethical side of Seth rarely shows itself, but when it does, it's profound. Speaking of the devil, I spy Edward and Seth on the back porch, both curious as to what we're talking about. Edward approaches me with his cocked brow; I continue smiling but slightly shake my head, no.

He hugs my dirt stained self to him in his clean clothes and kisses me deeply. After the searing kiss, he puts his forehead to mine. "You need to go into town with Seth and purchase material to repair the office. Carlisle and I can't be seen right now because of the Cullen name. Jasper, being new to the area would cause interest also. Right now the plan is to lay low. Emmett is busy in the fields, so it leaves you and Seth as the best choice. But I promise, my dad and I will do the repairs."

I smile up to him. "I'll hold you to it."

"The good news is, I get to pretend to be Seth today as assistant foreman," he says excitedly. All I can do is laugh again at his enthusiasm and hug him close.

When we turn, we both notice Seth is holding hands with Tanya and they make a splendid couple indeed. Happiness radiates from the both of them.

H~~H

I walk into the house to change and get money from the safe. We used to have an account at the hardware store and many others. Since the depression, all accounts were closed for all stores. We haven't been to town for a while, so I decide to get a list of staples Mrs. Cope needs and Alice adds to the list with feed for the livestock. With such a long list, it will take hours to fill, so I make a lunch for Seth and myself to take before leaving the house. _No need to starve, is there?_

As Seth drives, I can tell by the set of his shoulders he wants to talk, but he's finding it difficult to find a starting place. I can only imagine all the thoughts running through his mind.

"Come on, out with it, Seth."

He looks at me, giving me his halfcocked sideways grin. "That obvious, is it?"

"Seth, how long have I known you? And now lived with you? I know when you want to talk," I smirk.

"Fine, let's talk. Can I ask you something first?"

"Sure, what is it?" I reply, a little concerned what his question might be.

"Does it bother you, knowing Edward and Tanya were together—together in that way?" He's looking slightly uncomfortable.

I knew this question would come up at some point and I already knew my answer. "No, it honestly doesn't. I don't understand why, because believe me, I thought about it the instant I saw a beautiful woman get out of the car and hug him with tears of joy in her eyes. The only reason I can give is, he doesn't look at her the way he does me. She is his past and he tells me, 'I'm his future.' I believe him. I have to."

Seth looks deep in thought, nodding his head in what I can only guess is agreement.

"Does it bother you?" I'm curious because of his silence.

"Well, to be honest, it does… it did. But, you're right. Neither of them looks at each other as more than acquaintances, maybe friends. Not much more than that—at all. Maybe I should just look at it as sowing their wild oats," he shrugs.

"They are different people from what they used to be. Edward's admitted to me, he was arrogant and selfish before he came here. He said he's learned humility, trust and compassion; elements which were sorely lacking in his former self. I don't see it changing," I admit to a small part our personal conversations.

"Yeah, Tanya told me about what she did. It was a vicious revenge. It's one thing to make a threat. But, to actually carry it out, _that_ does bothers me. I do believe her when she says she tried to stop it. I think she's learned the same lessons Edward has."

He's quiet for a moment as he thinks over his words. "It's kind of an interesting dichotomy, Edward's goal, was to repay a debt to you and Alice, created because of Tanya. Tanya's goal, was to create of a safe haven for women after her assault, initially stemming from her anger, originally created by Edward. It's as if they both unknowingly came into their new selves because of the other," he observed.

"They will always be a part of the other because of it. Does it bother you?" I muse over his words.

"No, it doesn't. I really like Edward. He's intelligent, quick witted, he cares about the Plantation and everyone who is around you. The fortitude and conviction he and Jasper used to obtain their goal is astonishing. He loves you and makes you happy with those same strengths," he lists, with honesty in his voice.

He takes a deep breath as he forges on, "I think Tanya is a beautiful woman who's made mistakes and has paid for them. She created her own restitution, never knowing if Edward was alive or dead. She tried to cleanse her soul, if you will. Now that she knows Edward is alive and well, I think she can move on with her life. She may want to return to England, to continue her work, in the near future, and I feel I need to guard my heart." Finally he reveals his real concern.

I let his words sink in for a moment. I knew he would worry about the potential of her leaving, but there are never any guarantees in life.

"Seth, I think you and Tanya need to talk about your thoughts and concerns. She did ask if she could stay longer, and I know she has interest in you. I think she may have some concerns of her own. I can't promise you she'll stay forever, but then again, if the right person comes along, life can change in a split second. I'm living proof. Look at Alice and Jasper or Rosalie and Emmett," I offer words of encouragement.

"You're right. I'll talk to her tonight and we'll see how things go from there," he sighs.

H~~H

We're both quiet, lost in our own thoughts and soon we're at the hardware store. The town, for being so large, is eerily quiet. So many stores and businesses' closed. Seth looks at the list and heads towards the lumber section, while I go to pick up screws, nails, paint, stain and lighting. The fire was so hot, bulbs burst, wires melted and the finish on the wall sconces flaked away. It still sends a chill up and down my spine.

Seth and I make great time collecting the items we need. With actual cash paying customers, instead of the "looky- loos," you would think we were millionaires with the service we received. The down side is the salesmen were also showing us sale items which every home should have. As politely as possible, I only purchased those items on our list.

I notice a newspaper on the counter and I start to read the headlines. It seems that Adolf Hitler is barring anyone of Jewish descent from joining the German armed forces. I read last year that Germany's President Hindenburg had died. When Adolf Hitler took office, he combined the posts of President and Chancellor and is now using the German title Fuhrer, which means leader or guide. I remember thinking at the time, what a marvelous idea to use the word 'guide' as a title, and how it would resonate with the people of Germany. The titles of President or King create a chasm from the holders and ordinary people, but 'guide' would make you feel like an equal.

However, reading of some of his actions for the last six months, I'm beginning to wonder if the term 'guide' should be changed to Dictator. In January, in a speech to the National Socialist Women's Organization, Hitler defined women's role stating that, "a woman's world is her husband, her family, her children, and her home." And while I agree in part, it was as if he inferred, that women had no place in making decisions on their own. In other words, women were not to think, only obey.

In February, Hitler describes the Soviet Union as a menace to peace. Hitler also ordered Hermann Goering to establish the Luftwaffe, a German air force, in defiance of the terms of the Treaty of Versailles.

In March, Hitler said that the British should get used to dealing with Germany on an equal footing. The Versailles Treaty allows Germany to have no more than 100,000 men under arms. But, Adolf Hitler orders conscription for all able-bodied men reaching the age 19, violating the Versailles Treaty again. This order alone could be twice the allotted allowance. Adolf Hitler, is someone who I think countries are watching closely and I hope another Great War is not in the making.

I need to clear my mind of such dismal thoughts and turn to the sports briefs and smile at a baseball item from last week. Babe Ruth hits 3 home runs, for a total of 741, as a Boston Brave, against the Pirates. Grandpa Brandon admired and booed Babe Ruth more than any other player.

The last item, to capture my attention, is an athlete by the name of Jesse Owens, who equals or breaks 6 world records in track and field events in less than one hour. Incredible! I hope this man has plans to go to the Olympics, because he is amazing.

It took some time to load all the wainscoting, moldings, floor and baseboards, but when it's strapped in tight, we head to the feed store. The Foster–Berrios Feed Store is currently run by the brothers, Caleb, Javier and Josiah. It's a family business, having been around for over fifty years, and recently handed down to the young men.

It's also where men come and discuss everything from the weather, crops and the locals. I call it the gossip corner for men, but I've been told, _"Men don't gossip, they share vital and critical information."_ This important distinction comes from all the men I've ever known.

As we pull up to a parking spot, several of the men on the wooden walk of the shop are seated on benches or a table with chairs. Some play checkers, while others look on. They all look up to see who's in the truck and then what's loaded onto it. I smile to myself, knowing Seth will be asked many questions regarding our purchases and I won't be asked anything but, "How ya doin, Bella?" It's just the way of these men folk here in the non-gossip corner.

Seth turns to me before we get out. "What should I tell them about the supplies? Do I tell them about the fire or not?" He's being cautious.

I think about it for a moment. The fire eventually shortened the life of Mr. McCarty and we didn't tell anyone how he died. I don't want to open up a can of worms, especially with Jacob Black being the possible reason behind it all.

"Just tell them the office was in sad shape and needs a major renovation. You know how old homes constantly need improvement," I sigh. This was the tough part. Not being able to tell the truth. It's not in any of us to lie.

He nods his head and then grins, "While I get to know what's been going on around here, you have fun getting the supplies, little missy." He laughs, as he opens the door and starts greeting the men.

I shake my head and smile as I watch all the men greet him with handshakes, pats on the back and 'long time no sees.' I get out of the truck and, sure enough, I get the 'How ya doin, Bella?' from all the men. I simply smile, wave back saying "Good. And you?" I get the usual good from all. Yep, nothing's changed here and all is good, I snicker to myself.

I make my way into the store heading straight for the counter. Caleb takes the order down and totals the bill. I pay him knowing it will take a bit of time for the feed to be brought to the loading dock and then loaded. As I round the corner to head back out, I find the pens with various chicks, ducklings and baby rabbits or kits as they're known. Charlie used to trap rabbits and it's been a while since we've had polenta and rabbit stew. It was one of his and my favorite dinners.

While I'm thinking about whether to add to our livestock and build hutches for rabbits, a shadow crosses over me and that accompanying chill runs down my spine. Without even looking up, I know its Jacob. Does thinking his name, only a few minutes back, conjure him up out of thin air? I should have been thinking about Edward, if that's the case, I grumble to myself. But, now is not the time to be pithy. I have to act pleasant, even though he scares me due to our current suspicions. Then, thinking he might be connected to my parents' deaths, I become angry. My emotions are changing at lightning speed and I have to get a hold of myself.

I continue looking at the kits and, without even looking at him, I say, "Jacob, fancy seeing you here." If he sees my face he'll know something's wrong and I have to keep my mouth shut, especially here, at the feed store.

"Bella, this is a pleasant surprise. It's been too long," he says in a tone I've never heard before. It's as if he is trying to be seductive. My whole body shivers involuntarily.

I move closer to one of the windows where a stream of sunlight gives me instant warm relief. "It has been a while, hasn't it?" I agree. I've never been great with small talk as it is. But this is making me _miserable_.

"How have you been, Bella?"

"Good Jacob, and you?"

"I'm doing great now that I get to see you," he says smarmily, in his attempt at flirting.

"Huh," is all I can manage. He seems to take my one syllable as a meaningful response and he continues talking.

"I noticed you're planting crops again. A little late in the season, but it should still produce a good yield for you. I'm surprised though. I'd heard you hadn't any cash available not too long ago. So I can only assume you're speculating on some sort of a windfall when you sell," he rambles.

"How would you know what cash I do or don't have available?" I wonder out loud. I haven't talked to him since the night of Billy's funeral and I don't think he remembers much. Then I remember Jacob and Royce had a falling out. Would Royce have told him? I look up at him with my eyes narrowed, "Who have you been talking to, Jacob?"

Jacob's face falters a little as he realizes he's made a mistake. "No one, really Bella, I was just remembering when you came and spoke to my dad," he hedges. "It seemed as if you really needed money, is all I was thinking," he finishes lamely.

I want to be done with this conversation and get away from him. "Well Jacob, I'm fine, we're all fine, and the Plantation is fine. See ya." I turn to leave, but he suddenly grips my shoulder, effectively stopping me as my body turns to ice. Through gritted teeth I hiss, "Take your hand off of me."

"Bella, please don't be like this. I haven't seen you in a while. With my dad no longer around to harass you, I was hoping we could finally become friends," he whines, but his grip is still holding steady on my shoulder.

I try to shrug it off but he's not letting go. "Take your hand off me, Jacob Black," I seethe, as I repeat my request.

"No, not until you promise you'll turn around and talk to me," he demands.

He starts pulling me by my shoulder towards him and I will my body not to move. "Jacob, for someone trying to be my friend, let me give you a little tip. You're doing it wrong. When I ask you to remove your hand, it means, move your hand as any_ friend_ would do." I growl slowly, as if talking to a child, stressing the word friend. He's the last kind of friend I need.

"The lady said to remove your hand. I think, if I were you, I'd do it," Seth stresses quietly, but threateningly, from the side of the aisle, with none other than Emmett standing beside him. Jacob's grip loosened immediately as I walk quickly to stand between my two saviors.

"Bella, I just wanted to talk. Lauren said she saw you with a man in town and I was curious as to who it was. Friends ask questions about…" he whines, but I never let him finish.

"Friends honor a friend's request to be released. The friendship door has closed Jacob Black. Locked, barred and nailed shut," I fume at him. I turn around, as do Seth and Emmett, walking briskly out of the store without another word from him or to him.

I'm livid. He wants to be my friend. Hah! He only wanted to talk to me to find out about Edward. What, is he trying to figure out if he needs to take someone else I love from my life? Then all my rage leaves me as quickly as it came. No, he couldn't want to do that, could he? Why would I think something so horrible? What's wrong with me? In the back of my mind, I hear my father's words, _"Bella, you're a smart girl; you use your head when dealing with people outside the family instead of your heart. Have faith in yourself. If you think something is wrong in any given situation, it probably is. Trust your instincts, Bella. Always trust yourself."_

It's exactly what Jacob would do! He would take out Edward, if he thought he was a form of competition, standing in his way. Jacob still has hopes for a mythological us and I cringe at the idea.

No words are spoken as Seth, Emmett and I walk to the trucks. Seth had already loaded up ours with the feed. I turn, noticing Jacob standing in the doorway of the store a good ten yards or so away.

I turn to Emmett, raising a brow, "What brought you here? Not that I mind in the least, in fact, I'm grateful both of you are here." I look at both of them, my own personal brothers in arms.

"Well, first, plans have changed slightly for the restoration of the office. It was Detective Uley's idea. You'll know more when we get home. And second, Alice; she just thought it wise for me to get the supplies right then, so here I am," he grins. "Glad I came, too. Not saying old Seth here," he clasps his shoulder, "can't hold his own, but since he's lived under the Blacks for so long, Jacob would have had no qualms in starting a fight. We wouldn't want his pretty face to get messed up, what with Tanya here and all."

He grins slyly at Seth. I start laughing at Emmett's teasing and it feels good. A much needed prescription for calm.

Seth punches Emmett in the shoulder, laughing also, at his remark. "Yeah, old Seth here needs all the help he can get," he snickers.

Emmett stands up straight and looks Seth in the eye. "Hey buddy, you have no problems as far as I can tell. That girl is as smitten as the day is long." Then Emmett looks to me for confirmation. I nod my head, smiling and agreeing one hundred percent.

Seth straightens up, grinning widely. "Yeah, let's hope your both right. C'mon, we need to get some groceries, and when we get back, I can put your theories to the test."

Seth and I climb into our truck and, as he reverses out of the parking space, I glace up to see Jacob still by the door. We were too far away for him to be able to hear what we were talking about, but not far enough that I couldn't see a darkness come into his eyes. Again, I'm thankful to have both Seth and Emmett in my life.

Emmett follows us to the grocery, which proves invaluable. I purchase three times the quantity of staples we need, knowing we have plenty of room in the cellar. It would save us time and trips for the near future.

We're fortunate we only run into acquaintances, so conversation is kept to a minimum. As the fifty pound bags of rice, potatoes, flour, sugar and brown sugar and such are being loaded, along with cans of baking soda, salt, etc. I order additional lids and rings for our canning jars which will be delivered to the house.

I spy one of the only ranchers in the area. I inquire if he has any cattle for sale and his asking price when he answers in the affirmative. Quickly, after a little haggling, we agree on a price for ten head. Both our milk cows are pregnant, but we still have months before the birth. I inquire whether he has a heifer or two he might be willing to sell. They're really his main source of income. The more females, the more births, and usually only the steer are sold. But, times being what they are, we agree on a price for two heifers. He tells me they'll be delivered tomorrow along with bales of hay. I'm satisfied we'll be stocked with beef and milk products for the rest of the year. On one hand, I'm feeling guilty for spending so much money in one day. On the other, there are a lot of mouths to feed and this quickly assuages my guilt.

Now, I just want to get home to distance myself from the remaining traces of my encounter with Jacob. I wish Edward and I could take a little time to be on our own—for just a little while. Never before, have I had the desire to spend time away from the Plantation, during the growing season, but today I do. Just for a couple hours, I want to be alone with Edward. My mind wanders, as I think about my hands tracing his warm form and handsome features in the light of day. Then it drifts to the land, its acreage, and a wonderful little spot, that Edward has never seen. I smile like the Cheshire Cat. _Yes! I know exactly where we'll go._


	25. Renovations

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**I need to thank a lovely lady who has so graciously given her time to beta this chapter. She is absolutely beyond amazing, her thoughts made this chapter so much better. Thank you, ficfangirl, so very much! **

**And thank you for the continued encouragement; in reviews, pm's, followers, story favorites and your time. **

**Citrus Alert!**

**Chapter 24**

**Renovations**

**Early Summer - 1935**

**Edward**

I wanted to be the one to go with Bella into town, rather than Seth. I know Seth will take care of her, but that is my job. I want to protect her and always be there to help with any of the Plantation's needs. Maybe I'm selfish to want to do all things with her and for her, but this kind of selfishness, _I will never change. _

After they leave, I check on the workers and all is fine. There's not a lot for me to do right before lunch, so I head back into the house, meeting Jasper, my father, Detective Uley and Officer Call in the office. Jasper removed the window to create a door, and they're in the process of removing the file cabinets and desk. Jasper has various tools slipped between his belt and jeans and is hard at work.

I chuckle at him and he looks up. "What, haven't you ever seen a construction worker before?" He grins at me.

"In all honesty, no, I never have. I'm laughing because once again you amaze me with your knowledge of so many different things," I laugh at him. "You're a regular Jack of all trades."

With a gleam in his eyes, he replies, "Do not compare me to The Bard of Avon—William Shakespeare, I am not."

I look at him confused. "What does The Bard have to do with Jack of all Trades?"

"The phrase was first used to describe him. It was written by a playwright and critic, a man named Robert Greene in 1592 in a booklet entitled, Greene's Groats-Worth of Wit. He dismissively refers to William Shakespeare with the term and it was the first published mention of him." Jasper once again pulls out little bits of trivia to astound me.

"You see, right there is what I'm talking about! You have knowledge of history, quotes, construction, buying and selling artifacts and art, and so much more. You _are_ a regular Jack of all Trades," I list his qualifications, while laughing.

"But, I am a master of none," he returns and winks at me.

Everyone is snickering, until Detective Uley gets us back on track by pulling out the drawers of the desk and passing them out to Officer Call. As he pulls out the final drawer, he mutters to himself, "It's too bad we can't figure out a way to use this room, sort of the scene of the crime, to trap Jacob Black into confessing."

Officer Call encourages him to continue. "How do mean? What would you do?"

"I don't know, somehow we get him in here and we'd be close by, outside the window, wherever, then once he's talked, we arrest him," Detective Uley verbally works through his thoughts.

The room is quiet as we all look around the room and the door/window area.

"The window wouldn't be wise. If he were to look out, you'd be spotted instantly. It would have to be behind a wall or door," I muse.

"Or a false wall," Jasper adds to the idea.

We all turn as one to look at him. Jasper is staring at the wall opposite the door. The back side of the wall is off the side of the back porch on the western exposure of the house. The window faces the southern side.

"How would you do it?" questions my dad.

"Well, we'd need to be able to have part of the wall movable. Maybe the paneling can be on swivels. Each panel piece is four feet wide. This wall is 20' in length. The side two panels would have to be stationary for strength, and maybe the center one, as well. We could be on the other side listening, and when the time is right, push open the moveable two panels and be instantly in the room. If I were Jacob and concerned about being in the room, I would look to the window and the door. I would never think about the wall," Jasper finishes the notion.

Heads are nodding and you can see the wheels turning in everyone's mind. It might just work. Paneling wasn't on our list. My dad and I were installing wainscoting, but we could easily change it.

"Do you think it would work?" It sounds like a perfect solution to me.

Jasper walks over to the wall and uses the claw of the hammer to pull away the paneling to view what's behind it. We remove the whole burnt sheet and see the studs and the back wall. Everyone starts pulling the rest of the paneling from the wall.

After the paneling is fully removed, we all stand back and contemplate the idea.

"If we take off the wood siding on the back of the house, cut the frame up here and down here," Jasper points to the ceiling and then the floor frame boards, "to allow the movement, then add in a bar from top to bottom, for the cut out frame to turn on, then we re-panel the inside here…" he doesn't finish the thought.

We can all see it would work. It's genius! Suddenly the room is vibrating with excitement.

"Bella and Seth have already left. They'll need to go back since no one in this room can be seen in town." I'm frustrated again.

So engrossed in our conversation and Jasper's plan, we don't hear Alice come in. She is beside Jasper with her arms around his waist and a smile on her features. "You're a genius." _It's as if she read my mind._

Jasper beams with pride and we all smile. No one here is going to argue.

"Emmett's already on his way in from the fields. I asked Rosalie to fetch him," she smiles at us.

Detective Uley and Officer Call raise their brows and Carlisle shakes his head, in essence saying "Don't ask."

Emmett walks in right then. "So I hear there's a change of plan. What do I need to pick up?" Acting like it's a done deal and I guess it is.

Jasper writes down what he wants and my dad gives Emmett money to cover the cost. The rest of us finish moving out the desk and the paneling.

Just as he's ready to leave, Alice stops him. "Oh, and Emmett, meet up the Bella and Seth at the Feed Store."

Emmett stares at her for a moment, nods and heads out.

I quirk my brow at her and she smiles back. "It's fine, really Edward, I'm just covering all the bases."

Somehow, I know it has to do with Bella and she's keeping her safe. Once again I'm irritated. I can't wait until I can be there for her. With that thought in mind, I leave the office with Jasper and my dad. We walk through the house and out the back door to the outside wall of the office.

It takes time to remove the siding off the frame of the house without damaging it. Why damage it and have the additional cost? The business man in me comes through, and Bella would be horrified by any additional expenses. We store the siding in the Carriage House, not wanting the ongoing construction to be immediately evident to anyone due to lumber stacked by the house.

Alice calls everyone in for lunch and, as we're washing up, I hear the rumblings of trucks coming from the front. I move to the side of the house as Emmett's and the plantation truck pull up next to me. Relief washes through me knowing Bella is safe and sound. I didn't realize how tense I had become after Alice had asked Emmett to find them. Seeing her now, as she hops out of the truck with a smile on her face, brings a sweet joy to my heart.

I walk over to her and pull her warm little body to me. Her hands wrap around my neck, bringing my head down to hers. I kiss her soft, inviting lips. After a brief moment of heaven, I smile at her. "I missed you."

"I wasn't gone very long, but I missed you, too," she sighs, smiling.

"The point is, you were gone. I didn't like it," I admit.

"Well then, maybe I should make it up to you. We never really celebrated your birthday. How about we take a walk to one of the springs for a little picnic? Just you and me," she suggests with a wicked grin.

"Really? You can take some time away? There's so much to do. But, I would really like some alone time with you. I always want time alone with you," I answer honestly. I can never get enough time with her.

"Yeah, let's get the trucks unloaded and then run away for a bit," she winks mischievously.

"Done!" I agree with a big grin.

She laughs as she pulls away from me. We head over to the trucks and I start helping with the unloading of the lumber, stacking it behind the house. No reason to bring it through the house since we've already created a door in the window and soon, through the wall.

It's still surprises me to see Tanya unloading heavy sacks of feed and carrying them over to the barn with Seth following along, two sacks carried on his broad shoulders. Never in my lifetime did I ever expect to witness the Tanya I knew then and the one who is here now. Not that it would have changed my feelings for her. I never had real affection for her, but I'm actually starting to like this new person she has become. I can only hope she remains, because I genuinely like Seth and I think he deserves the best. I honestly think they would do well together.

With everyone helping, including the investigators, the unloading only takes about ten minutes. Like the well-oiled machine the people of this family are, no one got in anyone's way and everything's deposited where it needs to be. I watch Bella retrieve a sack from inside the cab of the truck and, as she shuts the door, she tilts her head towards the west, reaching out her hand to me. Grinning widely, I don't need a second invitation as I walk to her, taking her hand in one of mine and relieving her of the sack with the other.

It's a beautiful day, warm with a gentle breeze caressing us as Bella and I walk through the rows of first leaf cotton. We don't feel the need to talk on our walk; we just enjoy the peace and quiet—and the view. It feels as if you can see for miles, row upon row of new growth, and I can't help but feel proud I've contributed to the growing of this crop.

After walking for twenty minutes or so, Bella guides us through a small grove of ancient oak trees with Spanish moss hanging from their limbs like large curtains surrounding the trees. We stop walking, and I can see hidden behind the curtains, with the sun shining brightly above, a small meadow filled with colorful wild flowers, a natural hot spring misting to the side, with a few large flat rocks staggered around it. Oak trees stand guard all around, creating a private haven that is both primal and enchanting.

Bella looks up at me with a soft smile on her face as I take in the sight around me. "You like?"

I look into her beautiful, mesmerizing eyes and speak softly, not wanting to disturb the quiet tranquility of our surroundings. "I like, very much. But I love you more." I drop the sack and pull her into my arms to kiss her with my complete devotion. Her warm, soft, delicious mouth entices me to slide my tongue over her bottom lip and then bite down lightly, while she favors my top lip with the same. Her hands move up my arms and her fingers weave into my hair, twisting it, and then moving to massage my neck. It feels so good, sending waves of delight up and down my body.

We continue teasing each other until we both need to breathe. Leaning my forehead to hers, I Inhale deeply, breathing in the sweet fragrance of flowers, the musky aroma of soil and earthy smell of the trees. Combined, they are the sweet scent of my Bella.

When I open up my eyes, they are greeted by the sight of soft hooded ones, gazing up at me with a lazy smile on her lips. She looks so sensual right now and knowing I made her look that way is very pleasing.

"You want to swim?" she asks in a husky voice.

I chuckle, because it was a question I was not expecting. "We don't have swimsuits," I remind her.

"We're alone, surrounded by trees for cover, and the water is very warm. I've never been skinny dipping before, but I think I'd like to, with you." She has a wicked glint in her eyes.

I've never been swimming in the nude, let alone bathed with a woman, but suddenly this is an experience I need to explore. "Really? In broad daylight? Swimming in the nude, you and me, alone…" I ramble on, lost in a long ago little fantasy I had with a faceless girl. Only now, she's Bella.

She slowly lowers her hands down my shoulders, down my arms to my hands, squeezing them briefly. Then she moves them to the lowest button of her blouse and starts unbuttoning it, moving up to the next and so on until there's only one left. The breeze is fluttering her blouse, teasing me with glimpses of skin hiding underneath. Her hooded eyes, rimmed by thick dark lashes, gaze up at me as she releases the final button revealing the white bra covering her full breasts and the soft, creamy skin of her waistline. Shrugging her shoulders free of the blouse, it drifts down her arms and onto the soft ground. Her hands then travel to the buttons on her jeans.

She pauses for a moment, and I look up into her eyes as she challenges, "Are you in or are you out?"

I don't know if she meant it to be, but the question is laced with innuendo in my mind. _I most definitely plan to be in._

I sit down on the ground and start pulling off my boots and socks. When I'm done, using my index finger, I beckon Bella closer. She moves in front of me and I grab one of her legs, pulling her boot off as she balances herself with her hands on my shoulders. I pull off her sock and move to the other leg, repeating the same maneuver. With her still standing between my legs, I reach up to the buttons of her jeans and quickly undo them, sliding them down her toned legs and she steps out them, left only in her underclothes.

Taking the hand she offers, I stand and immediately pull off my t-shirt. Her hands are busy undoing my jeans and lowering them down along with my boxer trunks over my ass. Then my cock is free, standing at attention, as she kneels down to help me step out of them. I watch her, as she watches her hands slowly moving up my calves and over my thighs until she reaches my cock. I was anticipating making love to Bella, but what she's doing right now is so fantastic, my mind has had a sudden change of direction.

She looks up at me and our eyes lock. While one warm hand encompasses my cock, she slowly starts moving it back and forth, causing me to thrust into it. It feels so good—the warmth, the friction and the blood pulsing, rushing with the tightening in my cock. With our eyes still on one another, she moves her mouth right where I want it to be, flicks her tongue on the tip and then kisses it. I close my eyes, groaning loudly, replaying the little scene in my mind a few times before I feel her wet, hot mouth surround me, her tongue caressing the sensitive underside of my cock. I try hard not to thrust into her.

I force my eyes open so I can watch her and her mouth on me, outdoors, in the warm daylight, my beautiful woman performing fellatio. It's been a long running fantasy, but I never imagined it would come true. I don't know when my hands found their way into to her silky hair, but they're there controlling her head. I relax my grip, not wanting to be an animal, but she undoes me. I now know I can lose all control with her. She surprises me again by putting one of her hands on mine and applying pressure. She wants this! God, she's an angel or a devil. I don't know which and I don't care.

My fingers run through her hair and then tighten around her head, along with the tightening of my balls. She moves a hand to my ass cheek as her mouth pulls me in further. Her tongue dances around my cock as she pulls back. Watching her, she pushes me to her in her own rhythm, then her other hand is on my other ass cheek. I groan long and loud. It feels so good, my cock surrounded by her sweet, warm mouth, the pressure of her hands, and then she moans around me, sending vibrations up my cock and through my body as she takes me in again, deeper. I'm lost. I lose all control. Hands gripping her head, I start thrusting wildly into her mouth.

"So good Bella, oh that's so good."

The vision of her on her knees, the throbbing of my cock, her vibrating moans, her mouth, her creative tongue and then her teeth graze me, all combine to push me over the edge.

"OH BELLA!" I shout as the explosion erupts through me.

When Bella pulls her mouth away, I literally collapse to my knees and wrap my arms around her, leaning on her for support, while I try to get my breathing and body under control.

A few minutes pass with Bella gently rubbing my back with one hand and massaging my neck and scalp with the other. "Are you alright?" she whispers softly with concern.

"I'm more then alright. That was one of the most incredible orgasms I've ever felt," I breathe out honestly. Then I remember my wild abandonment and I pull back so I can look her in the eyes. "Bella, are you alright, did I hurt you?" I demand softly, searching them out.

Her eyes become brighter and she blushes a pretty pink. "No, I'm fine. I was just worried, since I don't have that much experience, I may have done something you didn't like. I wanted you to guide me," she blushes more, "so I know next time what you like," shrugging her shoulders.

I smile at my beautiful girl. "Bella, what you did, here in the great outdoors, has been a fantasy of mine since I first felt the throbbing in my cock. You made the reality better than I ever imagined. Don't ever be worried about your inexperience. The things you do to me, for me..., the way you make me feel, nothing in my past compares. I regret I even have a past, but I can't change it," I sigh and look down between us.

Why did I say that? I just changed a moment of pure bliss, to one of melancholy. Why did I have to bring the past into this, and with Tanya here, of all people? Why am I a total imbecile?

She puts her hands on my face and raises it so she can look into my eyes, breaking into my thoughts. "As long as I'm your last, let the past go." She's serious. Her eyes tell me she speaks the truth.

"Oh Bella, you are my first, my present, my future and last love. The only woman I have ever wanted or needed to call my own. Only you, Bella, only you," I declare with conviction.

"You are the only one for me too, Edward, never doubt it. I've never had a crush on any of the boys I grew up with around here. But the moment my eyes met yours…, that was the moment I knew what love could feel like. I'm glad I didn't meet you when we were supposed to. I fear you would have thought me a silly little girl with a juvenile crush," she laughs lightly at herself.

I chuckle with her, glad she's restored me to a good mood. "Bella, you were the reason I wanted to come here in the first place—remember? I would never have been seen you as a 'silly little girl.' I would have been thrilled if you had a crush on me. But, you're right about our delayed meeting. This way we skipped crushes and went straight into love."

I kiss her then, showing her just how much I love her. I've never kissed a woman after fellatio. But this is Bella, and this is me, and together with the taste of me in her mouth, this is us.

When we break apart, I remember that I am sitting with my naked ass on the ground and start laughing. "Let's go for a swim."

Bella rises, quickly removes her bra and shimmies out of her underwear, running and then jumping into the spring before I can get a good look at her body. I follow quickly behind, joining her in the very warm water.

I'm surprised at how clean and clear it is. The water is almost to my chest, so it's close to five feet deep; oval shaped, about thirteen feet at its widest point, with a gravel bottom and a few outcroppings of stone to sit on.

Bella is sitting on one of the outcropping, leaning against the spring wall. The water is reflecting the sun's rays, creating a misty aureole of sparkles around Bella's wet face, hair and shoulders with her breasts peaking above the surface. She is as ethereal as a mythological water nymph—_my own personal goddess_.

I wade towards her. "You are so beautiful. You enchant me." When I reach her, I put my hands on the bank on each side of her head. I need to kiss her again, so I do. Her wet arms wrap around my shoulders pulling me closer and the feel of her wet, warm skin on mine is a new delicious sensation.

H~~H

**Bella**

It's so relaxing lying here nude next to Edward, holding hands on the flat stones by the spring, the warm sun drying our bodies. Edward made passionate love to me with his hands, mouth, and body, and I'm fully sated. I'm surprised I don't feel shy or embarrassed, considering my naked state in the light of day, without the cloak of darkness to hide my body. It feels natural, freeing and so right with Edward.

Releasing my hand, he turns onto his side, props his head on one hand, and runs his free hand over my body from breasts to belly. "You haven't had your woman's monthly flow since I've been here, have you?"

His question catches me off guard, and then I think back to the last time it occurred. I remember it was before I made my last trip to the pawn shop. I put my hand on my belly, wondering if it's possible that a life could be growing there.

We haven't taken any precautions to prevent the possibility of pregnancy, and we have made love every night, and most mornings, since that first night. Could it be true? The thought of a beautiful little one who would look like Edward makes my heart beat faster in pure delight. I smile, as I feel Edwards hand covering mine. I open my eyes to see him looking at me with love and hope in his eyes.

"No, I haven't. The last time was before my trip to Charleston. So, it's possible we may have a little one soon," I answer softly.

A wonderful smile spreads across his features, igniting my own, as he looks from my eyes to my belly, squeezing my hand lightly.

"Well then, we'll have to move up our timetable on a wedding day, won't we?" He returns his eyes to mine. "I love you Bella, so much, with all my heart and soul," he kisses me gently, "and if we have created a new life, I promise you, I will be the best father ever," he adds as he leans over and kisses my belly. My eyes mist with happy tears, feeling his warm lips gently caress the skin, hiding what could be a new life.

His eyes, too, are misty with emotion. "I don't have a ring with me, but I have one. It has been in my family for generations and I will put it on your finger, if you'll accept it. Will you accept it, Bella? Will you let me love you every minute, of every day, of every year, for always? Will you marry me, Bella?" His voice is gentle, yet strong with conviction.

"Edward, I will marry you with or without a ring. I just want and need you, only you. I love you. Yes, I'll marry you," I whisper quietly, my throat almost denying my words sound, so choked up with feelings from the elation he gives me.

He lowers his head, his lips a hair's width away from mine. "Thank you," he whispers, and kisses me with reverence, which I return tenfold.

H~~H

After a celebratory picnic lunch, for his birthday and our engagement, we worship each other one last time in our own little bower of bliss.

The noise level increases with every step we take, walking hand in hand, as we return home. Field workers are busy trenching, weeding and fertilizing the rows of cotton. A few even stop Edward with questions, and his answers are correct. I admire how he is taking charge and learning the skills necessary to run the Plantation. It's obvious he loves it here, and my heart flutters in pure joy. We can hear the voices of Esme, Rosalie, Alice and Mrs. Cope talking and laughing in the kitchen as we pass by. We want to look at the construction work going on in the office. When we arrive, I'm surprised I can see into the office through a large section of missing wall.

Jasper notices my confused look. "I take it you and Edward must have been too busy for him to explain to you what our plan is." He smiles knowingly with a wicked grin.

I blush slightly, but then raise my brows. "There are times, when some things take priority over others. Alice explained this to me, when I tried to open the library door, and found it locked the other day."

Edward wraps his arms around me from behind, snickering into my hair, while Jasper's cheeks gain a reddish hue.

"Touché! Remind me to never get into a debate with you," he laughs.

Looking again into the office, I can see all the old burned paneling has been removed from all the walls and two walls have new sheets of plywood hung. Carlisle and Detective Uley are painting over the plywood, while Officer Call is hanging plywood on the wall with the window.

"You want me to show you what we're doing and why?" Jasper has been following my eyes.

I nod, and Jasper launches into the mechanics of the revolving doors and shows me, with the finished panel, how it works. It's fascinating how easily the panel moves and how well they have matched up the seams so you can't see any light between them.

I understand the design and how it can be useful, but not the reason why. "So, what's the reason for creating this wall?"

"Well…," Jasper starts, but is interrupted.

"Bella, we need to set a trap for Jacob Black. I think if we can get him here, to the scene of the crime, if you will, then maybe a confession can be drawn out of him. We can be stationed right behind this wall, out of sight, and when the time is right, arrest him. You'd be safe at all times," Detective Uley states decisively.

"What? Wait a minute, we never discussed Bella being in the room," Edward responds anxiously, holding me tighter.

"Edward, from everything I've learned, who else do you think Jacob would come to visit?" Detective Uley sighs, foreseeing an argument.

"I don't know. I never thought very far into the plan. How about me or my dad? Maybe he'd be interested in meeting the Cullens? We're the ones he tried so hard to keep from the Swans. We've come to visit and Carlisle might want to talk to him about buying his tobacco again. Make it about business," he reasons. To me, that makes more sense than Jacob coming to see me, since I've rejected all his attentions.

Detective Uley considers Edward's words. "We need to finish this room, and then figure out how we can get him to confess during a business meeting," Detective Uley reluctantly agrees, acknowledging Edward's objections to my involvement.

Relief washes through Edward and me, as we both relax. He hugs me one more time, kisses my head and whispers in my ear, "Got to get back to work. I'll see you at supper, soon to be Mrs. Cullen."

I turn my head to look at him with a huge smile on my face. He grins back, "You like?"

"I like very much. In fact, I love it very much."


	26. Sins of Past and Present

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**I want to thank a lovely lady who has again so generously given her time to beta this chapter. She is absolutely brilliant! Her suggestions made this chapter so much better. Thank you, ficfangirl, so very much! **

**And thank you all for the continued encouragement; in reviews, pm's, followers, story favorites and your time. **

**Chapter 25**

**Sins of Past and Present**

**Early Summer – 1935**

**Edward**

The past couple of days have been very busy and I couldn't be happier. I know I'm walking around with a perpetual smile on my face. Since the sublime afternoon spent with Bella at the hot spring, I've been on cloud nine. She's my fiancée. She's going to be my wife. The added bonus is we might have a little one on the way. She loves me. _Me!_ _I can't imagine a life better than this._

The most beautiful woman in the world, in heart, in soul, in mind and body, has agreed to become my one and only, _forever._

There's no doubt in my mind, everyone knows a wedding is in the near future. As Jasper and I drive to Charleston to hire our new assistant, we have a long talk. I explain how I want to distance myself from the shop, become a silent partner, and spend more time learning every facet of the plantation. I already understand the purchasing and selling end of the business. Once I fully comprehend the planting, growing and harvesting of the cotton, all profits would be completely kept in the family, with no commissions paid.

Jasper, agrees with my decision. He informs me that Alice has never been interested in working the fields all year round. She wants to become involved in the buying and selling of American Indian and early settlers' art and artifacts. She already has a firm grasp of the worth of most pieces. He speaks about some of the towns, cities, sites and museums they would like to visit and explore here in the States. It sounds exciting for them, but I want to stay in one spot and just be with my Bella and the land. Of course, if she wants to travel, we'll do that also. But, I know she would never want to leave for too long. The land would call for our return.

The interview goes incredibly well. My first impression of Daisy Grace is of a tall, professional dressed, elegant woman. When she answers our questions, she's articulate, smart, savvy and easy going. She's self-assured as she and Jasper fling dates, artist's names, maker's marks and facts at each other for a solid thirty minutes. It's impressive watching her stand her ground against Jasper regarding a specific date in time. Jasper retrieves a book and searches for the date in question. He looks at her and nods his head that she's correct. She merely inclines her head accepting this fact. Then they both grin at each other and then they're on to the next pivotal points in history.

As fascinating as it is to listen to them speak, I have things I need to do. I clear out my desk, boxing up the papers to keep them safe on our return trip home. I pack the few personal possessions I have and the rest of my clothes. I chuckle to myself when I clean out the money from my deposit box. I feel like I'm a regular Clyde Barrow. I can still hear the two of them continuing their conversation, so I pack Jasper's clothes for him. He's leaving most of his references books here for Daisy, bringing only a few back with us.

Daisy tours the rest of the shop and is satisfied with the bedroom/office combination, impressed with the bathroom and in awe of the safe. I know she'll be a great asset for Jasper.

H~~H

Bringing home the desk, and placing it the office, is easy with the help of the false wall. We simply removed a panel and set it right in, instead of maneuvering through the house. The plan to get Jacob here is still up for discussion. The investigators want to use Bella as bait and, though I understand their reasons, I will _not_ put her at risk. Carlisle and I agree that Jacob would be just as interested in meeting the elusive Mr. Cullen as he would in seeing Bella, especially if he thinks he will make more money selling to us. Maybe we can gain a confession from him with a viewing of the metal box.

H~~H

Right after breakfast, the men all head out to the fields. Even Sam and Embry, as they've asked us to call them, since they've been here close to a week. Bella wants to polish the desk and start setting up files for the Plantation. I know I will be doing most of the book work, but I think she wants to investigate the design of the desk and set up the office.

I catch my mother's eye and she stops in her task of clearing of the table briefly.

"What do you need?" she asks hurriedly.

"I think you know what I need. The question is—do you have it?" I chuckle.

"I have it. When do you want it?" The smile that graces her features is the biggest I've ever seen.

"Actually, that would have been three days ago," I laugh at her horrified expression. "So, immediately would work well with my schedule."

She hits me on my shoulder with mock disgust as she snaps, "Did I not teach you anything!"

I quickly move away, laughing and smiling. She crosses her arms, and taps her foot, trying to keep up her act of loathing. I enjoy watching her, as her features morph once again into her smile and she starts to laugh with me.

"I'll be upstairs in about five minutes. Don't be late," she demands, while she shakes her finger at me.

"Yes, mother dear," I agree, giving her my most angelic look which took me years to perfect.

She laughs while she rolls her eyes and returns to whatever chore I have interrupted.

H~~H

Pacing the room for what feels like a lifetime, but honestly has only been about seven minutes, she saunters in, like she has all day. She smiles breezily at me, taking her time, as she looks through her closet. She's doing this on purpose! Why? I try to think back to what I may have said or done for her to be torturing me like this. She knows I'm anxious. I'm here in her room, for heaven's sake! Then I remember.

"I know what you're doing," I taunt.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mocks me in denial.

"Yes, you do," I chuckle at her. "I promised to talk to you before I asked someone to marry me and to get your approval. I didn't keep my promise, but I know both you and dad approve of Bella. How can you not? She's perfect for me."

"Ah ha, I found it," she calls, while backing out of the closet. "And yes, you're right. Bella is perfect for you," she proclaims happily.

She walks over to me and stands by my side. She hands me a finely crafted gold box, etched with a floral design on top. I open it to reveal a beautiful, antique Georgian ring of yellow gold, which is quite feminine in its configuration. It's set with three old mine cut diamonds, with the center stone larger and yellow in color and embellished with filigree edges around the perimeter.

I remove it from the box and, as I stare at it, Esme puts her arms around my waist, squeezing me gently. "I'm so very happy for you, Edward. Bella is so lovely and loving. I've never seen you so full of life and purpose," she whispers.

"Thank you. She makes my life complete and I'll never want for anything more," I murmur, through the thickening in my throat.

"I know," she agrees softly.

For a few moments, we're both silent, admiring the ring and what it represents. "I'm curious. Why did you bring it?"

She drops her arms to her side, as she looks out the window for a moment, and then sighs, "For a couple of reasons. One, I didn't know if you had found someone already and would need it." She smiles at me, and then continues, "And two, there has been a seismic shift in Tanya's personality—for the better. With her insisting on coming, I didn't know if you would change your mind, upon seeing the difference, and renew your relationship. I had my son back, which was all I cared about at that point. I wanted you to have it, no matter what direction your heart led you."

I think about her words for a moment, once again reminded of their despair. But, it's in the past now and I can't change it. Even if I could, if Bella wasn't part of the future, I wouldn't change a thing.

"Thank you for bring…," I begin as I hear the clang of two bells. I remember it has something to do with a visitor. Curiosity has me opening my parents' door and looking out, just in time to see a large, dark haired man standing by the office door and talking to Bella. I then see Alice by the front door with a worried expression on her brow. I slip the ring in my pocket as I exit the room and race down the stairs. Alice intercepts me from going towards the office.

"It's Jacob Black," Alice nervously informs me.

_What's he doing here?_

H~~H

**Bella**

This morning after breakfast, as all the men went to work in the fields, I decided I would organize the newly remodeled office. I still can't believe it took only three days from clearing to completion. It's wonderful, looking so clean and crisp with the fresh paint, wainscoting and paneling. But, I suppose with four men working well together, I shouldn't be surprised.

Reluctantly, Edward and Jasper left early yesterday morning for Charleston to check on the shop and to hire a new assistant. Jasper contacted various museums, looking for a trust-worthy person to run the shop in their absence.

A young woman, by the name of Daisy Grace, came highly recommended. She had been working at the Smithsonian in the Natural History department—which wasn't her area of expertise. Her knowledge leaned towards research in American and European antiques and artifacts. According to Edward, those skills are exactly the ones needed to run the shop.

Jasper is going to continue the business and is in charge of how it will proceed. He and Edward are still partners, but as Jasper pointed out, since Edward wants to learn the running of the Plantation, he needs to be here. Edward says he'll still keep the books and inventory to help Jasper out, but as far as he's concerned, it's Jasper's business now.

Late yesterday afternoon, they returned with two beautiful mahogany file cabinets and this astonishingly beautiful desk. It's huge, and it's taking a lot of time to wax all the drawers and cubby holes, but its intricate details are interesting to explore. I marvel at the fine craftsmanship it took to create such a work of art.

It's stationed against the same wall as the door, so when sitting at it, you can look out the window, plus gain the extra light during the day. Currently, the only thing residing in it is Charlie's metal box and the pieces of glass and burnt rag in the basket, in a bottom drawer. Edward said I could organize the files however I want. But, I'm more than happy knowing that Edward will be the one working on the books. It's not my favorite chore. Or, should I say, it's a chore. Edward laughs at this, since its second nature for him.

Edward. Even his name makes me smile. I still can't believe it, I have a fiancé! He honestly loves me, for me. He wants to get married sooner rather than later. He wants to live here, with me, where I was born. He loves the land as much as I do and wants to be my equal, my partner, in all things. And we may have a little one on the way and he is embracing the idea with his whole heart and soul.

We haven't told anyone. Edward is insistent that he put a ring on my finger before we tell everyone the wonderful news. I honestly don't care. I don't need all the trappings of a grand affair. I only need Edward and a minister to be happy. Edward laughed with joy when I said this, but reminded me that his parents, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and everyone else might get a bit annoyed if we eloped. Okay, so they might be very annoyed and upset. I guess I better rethink this idea.

Lost in my thoughts, humming while I work, I didn't pay attention to the ringing of the bell. A few moments later, I hear the distinct clang of two bells. It means there is either a visitor or Charlie is needed at the house. Well, maybe it means I'm needed, but since I'm right here, it must mean a visitor.

I put down my polishing rag on the desk, walk to the office door, and opening it, to find Jacob standing on the other side.

Startled, I jump slightly, putting my hand to my chest. "Jacob, I wasn't expecting you to be here. Actually, I wasn't expecting you at all." My heart is beating a mile a minute and I mentally will it to slow down to its normal rhythm.

"Bella, it's good to see you to," he smirks. Then he looks over my head into the office and sees the freshly painted and paneled walls. "I see you've been busy."

I move back from the door, opening it wide to let him in and then close it. I desperately hope Edward and all the men heard the bell and are on their way or in position. Edward and I agreed upon a plan that included an invitation to Jacob to come by to meet the Cullens. As Charlie frequently said, _"There's no time like the present."_

I move back to the desk and pick up the polishing rag, needing something to occupy my shaking hands. I despise the chill that runs up and down my spine due to Jacob's proximity.

"It looks really good in here. Why'd you remodel it?" Jacob wonders aloud, still looking around. His attention is next drawn to the open window as he walks past me to lean out and look around.

"It was time. Some things just need to be updated. Why do you ask?" I return my gaze to the desk and continue polishing one of the drawers, curious what his game is, but more importantly, if he saw anyone outside.

I don't like my back to him because I can't see exactly where he is, so I move behind one of the open doors of the desk, which is about four foot tall, to polish it. This allows me to face the room and keep my back to the wall.

"I guess you can call it curiosity." His eyes return back to me.

"What are you curious about, specifically, Jacob?" I return his look with a raised brow, pausing in my polishing.

"How suddenly you seem to have come into so much money. You have laborers in the field. You're able to pay for this remodel. You purchased cattle. You're buying large quantities of groceries." He lists my most recent purchases. It irritates me that he knows these things, when it's none of his business.

"Well, you know what makes me curious? Why you're asking around to find out about my spending? What business is it of yours, Jacob?" I respond with a question, refusing to answer his.

He walks towards the desk, as if he's interested in the design. "Bella, everything you do is my business. I like to think I watch out for you," he mumbles, as he begins opening the top drawers and looking in them.

"You watch out for me? When have I ever asked you to watch out for me? Was it watching out for me when you convinced me to go to your father and ask for help? When he tried to bribe me into marriage in exchange for his help? When he tried to force a marriage between us, so he could take over my lands? Were you watching out for me when he said he would sit back and let us lose everything, so I would be forced to sell the land and he would buy it for pennies? When have you ever watched out for me?" I'm angry at his audacity and anger is _good_. It keeps me focused on the conversation and not the chills.

"I took care of my father!" He hisses at me. "After you left that day, I realized he did nothing but create a wider chasm between us by constantly badgering you for years. If he had just kept his mouth shut and his eyes off you, you could be mine by now." He inhales deeply, blows it out and continues. "I didn't know he had written up the contract that day. Yeah, I had a brief moment of hope, but when I saw your face devoid of all emotion, I knew it was a lost cause." He shakes his head as if remembering what happened and wanting to clear it.

"But, I have been watching out for you. I heard Royce tried to blackmail you into marriage for the taxes on the property. I went to pay them for you, only to find out you already had," he states, not looking at me, as he continues opening and shutting the desk drawers.

"So, that brings me back to my first question, Bella. How are you paying for all of this?" He waves a hand around the room, while still exploring the desk.

"What do you mean you took care of your father?" I shoot back.

"Damn it Bella," he yells, squatting down to open one of the bottom drawers and then slamming it shut. "Will you answer my question? Who is the man Lauren told me she saw you with? The one who said his name was 'Taken.' Is he the reason for your sudden wealth? Is he paying you to sleep with him?" He looks up at me, watching my expression as he waits for my answer, to read the truth of my response on my face.

"How dare you?" Now I'm past livid. "You have no right to ask such questions or to insinuate such things, Jacob Black. Where I get MY money, is MY business and not YOURS!" I shout, heaving for air.

He looks away from my scorching glare and angrily opens the final bottom drawer. He freezes. All color drains from his face. With a shaking hand, he pulls out the basket holding the broken glass and rag. Recognition is written plain as day on his face as he sets it on the floor beside him. He then reaches in and pulls out the metal box.

"Put it back, Jacob. That box is my property and you have no business touching it," I nervously demand, suddenly feeling as if I have lost the upper hand.

He must have heard the change in my tone and looks back up at me. "What's in here, Bella?" he questions, keeping his eyes on me as he opens the box. Lying on top is the detailed list of what's in the box, which Carlisle prepared. It chronicles the events of the Clearwater fire, the mafia connection, the events leading up to Harry Clearwater's death, Charlie and Renee's murders and the fire in the office, even Billy Black's demise with a big question mark by his name.

Jacob reads the list, then stands up and throws the box across the room, hitting the wall opposite the window, the papers fluttering and scattering everywhere. He turns around and walks toward the window. I pray no one is there. He sticks his head out and looks all around and back again. Finally, he turns to look at me.

His look is deadly. My knees actually start to knock against the door of the desk, and my whole body starts to shake. For the first time in my life, I actually fear him, as I feel the color drain from my face.

From the far corner of my mind, I hear Charlie lecturing me, _"Never show your thoughts when dealing with people. Don't ever let them know if you're uncertain or unsure. People will try to take advantage of you, especially because you're female. You live in a man's world, Bella. You can never let them think they have the upper hand." _

Charlie. He killed Charlie and Renee. I feel it in my bones. I lock my legs, standing straight. I lock my body, and then I lock my arms. Finally, my features become a cold granite frieze.

He notices the change, and looks straight into my eyes, with his furious black ones. "You know," is his only utterance.

"I know what, Jacob?" I respond icily. "I know that your family history is full of evil and self-indulgence. Coveting things which belonged to others and stopping at nothing, including murder, to get them." I spit at him with contempt. "I know you killed my parents. Did you know my mother left a clue, naming her killer, Jacob?" I spew all my hatred at him. "I know you killed your father, but that one throws me. He made you just like him. Wouldn't that make you idolize him?" My sarcasm rides high.

At first, he's stunned that I admit what I know, but then he looks admiringly at me. "You are so beautiful right now; standing up to me, knowing you won't be allowed to leave this room alive. But, since you ask, let me tell you about my _father,"_ he condescendingly drawls.

"Did you know my father killed my mother because she found out about the mafia connection and wanted a divorce? Yes, he did. I was only months old and he suffocated her. He told anyone who asked that she ran away. She's buried somewhere out in the marshes. My father always demanded respect, and insisted he control everything, even as to whom I was to marry, _you_. I didn't mind his choice though. When he looked you over like a prize to be won, I was furious. When you refused his contract, he swore you would be dead within three months. I believed him. When I told you before I've watched over you, I told the truth. I killed my father to save your life." He smiles at me with raised brows, looking at me as if I should be happy with his confession.

"You want me to thank you? Is that what you think? You killed my parents; you stole mail to hinder my ability to make a living, and then started a fire in my home which could have killed all of us. Mr. McCarty _did_ die fighting the fire. How can you expect me to thank you?" I'm incredulous.

"You wouldn't have died in the fire. I was in your sitting room and would have woken you in time to get out." He's so angry that I doubt him. I remember the chill I felt that night. "As for Emmett's father, I take no blame for that. He was a fool to stay in the room for so long. I won't take that on," he shakes his head at me, slowly walking towards me. "As for your parents, well, really Bella, that was your fault," he smirks.

"My fault? I didn't put a gun to their heads. You and Billy did," I dismissively answer. He must be insane.

"Oh no, it is your fault. When you kicked us out on Christmas night, you stirred up a hornets' nest for my dad," he watches me, smiling. I'm shake my head no and repeat the mantra in my head, _I didn't kill them, I didn't kill them_.

"You did though, Bella. You see, my dad always loathed Charlie. He always…what was your word?" He pauses and then smiles again at me, "_coveted_, that's it. He coveted Renee since his school days. He loved her more than my own mother. But she loved Charlie." He sneers and then shakes his head sadly, as if that was a great tragedy. "Then when Charlie no longer helped him sell our tobacco, his abhorrence spiraled. But when you kicked him out of this house, well, it was the final straw. You still had potential, but he was through with Charlie and Renee. So you see, it is your fault," he finishes smugly, watching my reaction.

Denial is my strongest reaction. I will not take this on. I refuse. "You are really twisted, Jacob, if you believe their deaths are my fault. Is that how Billy assuaged himself, or you? You killed my parents because I kicked him out of my house? Always someone else's fault, so you have a valid reason for taking their lives? Is this how you live with yourself?" I rage at him. He loses his confidence as he thinks through my words. It's as if Billy convinced him it was a necessity to kill my parents, but now he's questioning it. Then he shakes his head and comes back to the present. He's standing on the other side of the desk door in front of me.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Bella. It's done and over with," he declares as he reaches behind his back and pulls out a gun. "I do regret that I have to do this, though. I do love you, Bella, but, I know now, I'll never have you," he sighs, raising the gun towards my head.

"_Like hell you will!"_ I push with all my strength against the heavy door of the desk. It throws him off balance, as I run out from behind it, straight into him. I push the hand holding the gun up into the air just as it goes off, creating a large hole in the ceiling. Bits of debris shower down around us.

"Stop right there, Jacob Black. Put both hands in the air!" Officer Call shouts.

I feel hands on my waist, starting to pull me away. I turn around to find Edward there, fear clearly written in his eyes. Next, I feel an arm wrap around my neck, and I'm being pulled away from him. Cold suffuses my body, offset by heat from the hot metal tip of the gun, now pressing lightly against my temple.

"If I go, she goes first! She's mine for now and forever!" he yells maniacally to everyone in the room.

I look around, frantically struggling against Jacob's arm. I see Edward first. Fear and love in his eyes. I see Carlisle, his eyes filled with concern and so frightened. Jasper is still, watching and waiting. Detective Uley is angry and calculating. Officer Call focused and determined. Seth is anxious and agitated. Emmett though, he's trying to tell me something. His body sways slightly, and he closes his eyes for a moment, as if he is going to faint.

"It doesn't need to end like this, Jacob. You say you love her, show her you do. Let her go," Detective Uley tries to cajole him.

Jacob's response is to tighten his arm around my neck, "I said—she's mine! Are you deaf?" he shouts.

I start to feel a little light headed, struggling hard with my hands against his arm. I look at Emmett again as he repeats his movements. Then I understand. I struggle furiously one last time and then completely relax my body, moving my feet behind me, in hopes of falling to my knees.

My sagging weight must have startled Jacob. He removes his arm from around my neck and the gun from my head. He bends in an attempt to grab my waist, as I fall to my knees with hands on the floor. I barely see Edward move, as he quickly grabs Jacob by the back of his hair, pinning the hand with the gun between their bodies. Pulling his head back, Edward punches Jacob in the face in rapid fire blows. Jacob moans loudly, trying to push him off with his free hand. But I'm on the ground between his legs, causing him to widen his stance, so he's unable to move or gain leverage. All the while, Edward is cursing at him.

I push myself back through Jacob's legs, while Edward continues to pummel Jacob's face. I raise my feet and slam them behind his knees. As he starts to fall backwards, I roll to the side and scramble to my feet. Carlisle grabs hold of my waist and pulls me away from the scene. After a few moments pass, I turn around to see Detective Uley pull Edward off of Jacob's body, since he followed him to the ground. But Jacob still has the gun. He starts to raise it towards Edward, but Jasper slams his boot heel down hard on Jacob's wrist. We hear the bone crunch, and Jacob howls in pain. Jasper bends down and retrieves the gun, before removing his heel from Jacob's wrist.

Jacob writhes on the ground, holding his wrist. Emmett and Seth pull him up, putting Jacob's arms around their shoulders. Both then, in a surprisingly synchronized motion, start throwing jabs into his ribs. Once again, we can hear his bones cracking. Jacob is staggering, barely able to stand, let alone breathe or moan. When Emmett and Seth let him go, he falls to the ground, face first, with the sound of his nose breaking. Both of them, giving Jacob just a little taste of the pain they have suffered from the loss of their fathers.

Edward is by my side instantly, and Carlisle releases me into his arms. At first, he hugs me tightly. Then he pulls away, putting his hands on my shoulders, then on my face, pushing my hair away, so he can look at me.

"God, are you alright, my Bella? Are you hurt anywhere?" His concern is evident in his eyes, voice and gentle touch.

"I'm okay, Edward, I'm okay." I whisper, raising my hands to his face, while looking into his frantic eyes.

"For a moment, I thought I lost you when you fell to the ground. You're okay, really okay?" He begs again for reassurance.

"I'm okay, really. I didn't faint. It was an act. Emmett knows, ask him. It was his idea," I try to relieve his worry.

"Emmett? Never mind, I'll find out later." He pulls me once more into a tight embrace, while whispering, over and over again, how much he loves me.

H~~H

**Edward**

"It's Jacob Black." Alice nervously informs me.

_What's he doing here?_

"You have to get outside and meet the men. This is the time, now hurry!" She whispers, frantically pulling me by my arm, away from my Bella.

I try to remove my arm, just as Jasper comes in from the front. He looks from me, to Alice, and back to me again, understanding the situation. "You're needed outside, Edward," he reminds me quietly.

I gaze longingly one more time at the office door and pray to every deity to keep her safe. "Fine!" I quietly seethe, because once again, I'm frustrated. We quietly and quickly make our way through the house. All the women are in the kitchen with worry clearly written on their features. I order them to stay there until we give the all clear. Then we continue through the back door to the side of the office. Sam and Embry are already there. I see Carlisle and Seth coming from the north side and Emmett directly behind us from the west.

We can hear their conversation crystal clear. I hear Bella's anger rising as she asks him about watching out for her. I'm surprised she actually gets him to admit he took care of his father. Is it not enough of an admission of guilt? I look to Sam, but he shakes his head, no.

When Jacob asks if Bella is sleeping with someone for money, I'm ready to rip him from limb to limb. Nobody talks to my Bella that way! I'm at the door, ready to push it open, when Embry grabs both my arms from behind me and hauls me away, looking to Jasper to keep me here.

I hear Bella when she grinds out, "How dare you?" And I'm nodding my head, agreeing with her, pacing five feet away from the door. _How dare he is right! _

But, when I hear, "Put it back Jacob. That box is my property and you have no business touching it." I look to my father and his eyes are wide with worry and fear. I know he detailed his findings in chronological order and, if Jacob sees it, this could be the worst luck. I hear the crash of something hitting the floor and I freeze in place, trying to hear anything, but all I hear is silence.

"You know," is all we hear Jacob say. I don't what he's doing, or what he's thinking. I wish I was a mind reader, so I would know where Bella is, in proximity to him. This not knowing has anxiety ripping through my body and my thoughts are scattered.

"I know what, Jacob?" I hear my beautiful Bella speak; using a tone I never want to hear when she is talking to me. It sends chills up my body, petrifying me, when she boldly accuses him of everything. _Does she have no a sense of self-preservation?_

Hearing Jacob call her beautiful and then threatening her in the same breath has me lunging for the door, only to be stopped by Jasper and Emmett. Bastards, is what I want to yell at them, but I calm down when Jacob speaks about Billy Black.

Billy Black was one sick puppy! Like father like son. Even though Jacob just admitted to killing his own father to save Bella, I'm still horrified that Billy had plans to kill Bella in the first place. I feel physically ill.

"You want me to thank you?" Hearing her voice again gives me my strength back. I listen as Bella again gets Jacob to admit to killing Charlie and Renee, even though he places all the blame on the Swan family. How Bella must be hurting, if she believes one iota of this is her fault. But, she is much stronger then I would have thought, as she turns it back on them.

"I do regret I have to do this, though. I do love you, Bella, but, I know now that I'll never have you," Jacob says, and I'm moving. Nothing could stop me, not Jasper or Emmett or all of them combined, now knowing he planned to kill her. I bolt past them all, through the door to see Bella push against the desk door, while listening to her yell, _"Like hell you will."_

I see Jacob lose his balance. When I'm almost there, she barrels into him, pushing the gun up into the air as it goes off. I reach for her waist, to pull her clear, but I'm not fast enough, as Jacob puts a choke hold on her, with the gun pointed to her temple.

"If I go, she goes first! She's mine for now and forever!" he yells, to everyone in the room. I freeze.

Bella struggles as she looks at all of her would be rescuers. My fear is magnified by my inability to do anything as I watch my beautiful Bella struggling for her life against him. She's so close, but if I move a muscle he could and would kill her. He's killed before and he knows he's trapped. He's insane enough to do it, even with all of us as witnesses.

"It doesn't need to end like this, Jacob. You say you love her, show her you do. Let her go," Sam tries to reason with him.

Jacob's response is to tighten his arm around her neck. "I said—she's mine! Are you deaf?" he rages.

Watching this unfold is gut wrenching. This man has lost all sense of reality. He tightens his arm around Bella's neck again, as she valiantly continues to struggle. But then she just stops and slowly slumps to the ground. As Jacob reaches for her again, I snap. With one hand, I grab his hair at the back of his neck, pin one arm, and then force his head up. The adrenaline flooding my system gives me strength. I start pounding his face with every ounce of force I have. _"You bastard!_ You're a son of a bitch trying to kill my Bella!" Blood is starting to flow from his eyebrows, nose, lips and cheeks. I punch him four more times in quick succession. "This is for Charlie and Renee, you stinking pile of sh...,"

All of sudden, he's falling backwards. I'm not done with him yet, and I follow him to the ground. His arms are now trapped under my knees, as I land straddling his chest. I use both hands now, with his head as my punching bag. I'm in the zone. Left. Right. Upper cut. I have a rhythm going, but on my third round, I'm being dragged from my prey. "I didn't get to twist his sick head from his shoulders," I yell at the interloper.

I turn to see Sam, who raises both hands up in the air. "You had your turn. Let someone else play for a bit," he says and tilts his head back to Jacob. I turn to see Embry is standing by Jacob's side, with his gun pointed directly at Jacob's head, focused, and I know he won't miss his shot. I watch as Jacob start to raise his gun towards me. Jasper breaks the wrist which held the gun and retrieves it. Then Seth and Emmett help him to his feet, and I smile in satisfaction as his ribs are bruised and cracked.

Finally, I look around the room. Seeing Bella in my father's arms, my violent rage quickly dissipates.

I hug her to me tightly, but then I pull away. I need to know she's okay. With my hands on her shoulders, I look at her neck, which is red but not bruised. Then I'm pushing her hair away from her face to make her look at me. "God, are you alright, my Bella? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm okay, Edward, I'm okay." She raises her hands to cup my face and the warmth starts to calm me as she looks into my searching eyes.

"For a moment I thought I lost you when you fell to the ground. You're okay, really okay?" I beg her to tell me the truth.

"I'm okay, really. I didn't faint. It was an act. Emmett knows, ask him. It was his idea," she tries to relieve my worry.

"Emmett? Never mind, I'll find out later," I respond, then pull her into a tight embrace while whispering, over and over again, how much I love her.


	27. Confessions and Commitments

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

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**It was suggested that you might be interested in Bella's ring or the desk, ect. If you go to my profile you will find a link if your curious.**

**I am amazed at the continued encouragement and support I have received in reviews, pm's, followers, story favorites, rec's and your time. To say thank you is just not enough but know that I am forever grateful. **

**Chapter 26**

**Confessions and Commitments**

**Summer - 1935**

**Bella**

**Early Summer**

After reassuring himself I was fine, Edward carries me up to our room, away from Jacob, who lay prostrate on the office floor.

Once in our room, he removes every article of clothing covering me, bathing my whole body, removing any trace of Jacob's touch. He then cleanses my mind and soul with his body, hands and mouth, making gentle, but passionate love to me.

Needing to rejoin the others below, we dress in clean clothes. Edward picks up his discarded blood stained jeans, pulling something from the pocket. He tosses the jeans back down onto the pile as he looks at me. "Everything in this pile gets burned. I don't want a reminder of anything you wore today. I don't want you to touch any of this either. I'll take care of them."

I smile at him and nod. We both know we will never forget this day, but with every passing moment his thoughtful, gentle, caring ways—helps ease away the memories.

He walks back over to me, placing a hand on my cheek. "I promised you something three days ago. I wish I had done this sooner and I'm not waiting another moment." Holding my gaze, his filled with love, his hand glides down from my cheek, my neck, shoulder, then my arm until he reaches my hand and brings it up between us. His other hand moves up and we both look down as he opens it to reveal a gorgeous ring. My eyes flash to his as he says those magical, sweet, beautiful words to me one more time. "Marry me."

"Yes," I answer with a catch in my voice, my eyes misty, as I smile into his eyes, glowing with happiness.

He slides the ring onto my finger signifying our union. The fit is perfect.

"Perfect," he whispers, as if reading my mind.

He kisses the ring and then my lips, sealing our promise.

H~~H

We return downstairs to find everyone on the veranda. Jacob is trussed up in hand restraints, rope around his arms, midsection and the back of the chair, with his ankles bound to the chair legs. Someone took the time to wash the blood from his face, which is cut, battered, and bruised and his eyes are almost swollen shut. Not shut enough though, as he sees me holding hands with Edward.

"Bella, who's _that_ you're with?" Jacob mumbles aggressively through his swollen mouth. He becomes more agitated by the moment, fighting to free himself from his bonds. The chill, which usually accompanied every encounter I've ever had with Jacob, is still there—but contained. It's as if the warning signals in my system are on alert, but with him restrained, knows instinctively I'm safe. Now, I only feel disgust towards this man who has taken the lives of family and friends, and even tried to take mine in the guise of love.

Edward doesn't give me a chance to answer. "Edward Cullen. We've never met, but, I think you've heard of me. I'm also known as 'Taken,'" he says with a grin, pulling me in front of him and wrapping his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. I cross my arms to rest on his, and lean back into him for comfort and strength.

The sound of collective gasps float around us. I look around, wondering what has everyone in a tizzy. All their faces morph into smiles, with giggles from the women and chuckles from the men. Then it dawns on me. My engagement ring is sparkling brightly for all to see. It fits so well, I feel as if I've been wearing it forever. I smile at everyone, content, while Edward squeezes me tightly.

Bursting my bubble of joy is Jacob. "So it's true, the money you have is because of him, isn't it?" Jacob spits at me. He looks at Edward with a glare. "I'll bet she's good in bed, so you pay her extra, right?"

I feel Edward stiffen in anger. He starts to remove his arms from around me—but I hold on tight. I can't see his face, but I hear and feel his low growl with the gnashing of his teeth.

Alice is immediately in front of Jacob, pulling back her little fisted hand and socks him square in the mouth, astonishing everyone.

"How dare you, you overbearing, pompous, egotistical, wolf in sheep's clothing!" She sputters at him.

"You killed our parents!" she shouts and hits him in the eye.

"Your family virtually annihilated the entire Clearwater family!" she hisses and smashes him in the other eye.

"You started a fire that could have killed us all and did kill Mr. McCarty!" she rages, punching his nose.

"You tried to ruin us and force Bella to marry you!" she seethes, and hauls back to hit him again. Jasper chooses that moment to intervene, putting an arm around her waist to pull her away. I don't think she's actually causing as much damage to Jacob as to her hand. But, Alice needs to let go of all her pent up aggravation from the damage Jacob inflicted on our families.

She spins around, furious to be interrupted from her tirade. "If you want dessert, you better let me have my say." Her tone and look are deadly serious. Jasper releases her, as he raises both hands in the air, backing away with a small smile on his face. Somehow, I think his dessert is different than ours. It seems everyone thinks the same, as chuckles and snickers waft through the air.

She turns back around to face Jacob. "Where was I? Oh yeah, Bella. Bella is engaged, you stupid, mangy mutt!" she rants, as she hits him on his bleeding mouth, one more time. She stares at him for a moment, as if wondering if she'd like to add anything more, while shaking her hand. Finally, she shrugs and turns around to face everyone, and blows out a deep breath. "Okay, I'm done."

At first, everyone is silent. Emmett releases Rosalie's hand and starts clapping. Then more clapping is heard, until we all are. Alice's smile grows and then she curtseys, which makes everyone burst into laughter. My 4'11 ½" sister is one little hellion you don't want to mess with.

Jasper pulls her into a warm embrace and smiles down at her. "Mary Alice Brandon Swan, you are the most feisty, loving, intelligent, remarkable woman I have ever known." He pauses for a moment, as his hands cup her face, his sparkling blue eyes holding hers. "Marry me!"

We're all so stunned by his sudden proposal that we remain silent, as we wait with bated breath for her answer.

Alice gazes up at him with the most loving smile on her face, and then lifts a brow up. "This isn't how I pictured my proposal," she said, slightly miffed.

"I know. I wanted it to be a complete surprise, and not something you already dreamed about or knew when it would happen." Jasper grin is cocky. _He knows her so well._

Alice takes a moment to absorb his words. "Yes, Jasper Whitlock, I will marry you," Alice answers and jumps into his arms. Jasper twirls her around. Everyone, once again, applauds and cheers as Jasper and Alice seal it with a kiss.

Our little impromptu celebration is cut short when, minutes later, a paddy wagon rambles up the drive and stops. Embry waves at them. Two constables step out of the wagon, and first shake hands with Embry and then with Sam. All four men walk towards us as the two constables spy Jacob.

Interestingly enough, the constables, Colin and Jared Brady are identical twins; both large, muscular men with blond hair and light brown eyes. One asks for an enumeration of the charges against Jacob.

"Three counts of murder, attempted murder, arson with murder in the third degree, assault with a deadly weapon, and aggravated assault, are the major ones with more charges to follow," recites Sam, in full Detective Uley mode.

"Impressive list. Who did he murder?" questions Constable Brady. I really don't know which one.

"Charles and Renee Swan," Detective Uley answers, while both constables throw looks of disgust at Jacob, obviously having heard of the case.

"William Black, his father," Detective Uley continues, while both men look at Jacob—in surprise.

"Mr. Eugene McCarty, who eventually succumbed to pneumonia, due to lung damage caused by his efforts to put out a fire in the office on this property, started by Jacob Black," Detective Uley adds, while both constables shake their heads.

"Miss Isabella Swan," Detective Uley nods towards me, "is the attempted murder and aggravated assault victim. Luckily, she was able to push away a loaded gun aimed at her, as it discharged, but then he held it to her head with the intent to kill." Both men are shocked, as they look at me. Edward tightens his hold around me.

"We don't know if he was involved in the death of a Mr. Harry Clearwater. Mr. Clearwater was possibly poisoned. We're waiting for the toxicology results from the FBI's lab," Detective Uley finished.

Detective Uley found out blood had indeed been taken from Mr. Clearwater. The sample was sent to Washington D.C., where Special Agent Charles Appel was the Bureau's one-man lab. Detective Uley told us that Special Agent Appel had previously solved a poisoning case in 1933. It was also his analysis of handwriting samples from the famous Lindbergh kidnapping ransom notes which ultimately helped convict Bruno Richard Hauptmann.

"I had nothing to do with Harry's death. That was entirely all my dad's doing. He suspected Harry knew more than he should, so _he_ took care of him," Jacob yells at Detective Uley.

"So, you knew about the murder, but didn't come forward with the information? Well, Jacob, that's called aiding and abetting. Another charge to add to the list. Thank you for that," Detective Uley smirks at him. Jacob growls, but I'm not sure if it's at himself or Detective Uley.

The constables come up the stairs and walk up to Jacob. They start untying him from the chair. As he starts to struggle a little, Officer Call positions himself in front of Jacob, and he immediately stops. Jacob looks around at all of us and, by our expressions; he knows he doesn't have a chance to escape. When he is finally able to walk, Jacob is escorted, with officers on all four sides of him, to the paddy wagon. After minutes pass and I assume he is secured inside, Detective Uley and Officer Call return to the veranda.

"I want to tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality, Bella and Alice," Embry nods to the both of us. "I'm glad we can finally put your parents' case to rest. I'm going to drive the wagon to the station, while the constables sit in back with Jacob. We're not going to take any chance of him escaping."

"Thank you for everything you've done, for never giving up, and for giving us closure. We will never be able express how much we appreciate it," I say as my throat tightens again.

Embry walks up to me, and Edward releases me so Embry can embrace me. "I wish we had met under different circumstances, but all the same, I'm glad we met," he says as he releases me.

He looks at Edward. "I'm glad everything has worked out for you. We're still trying to track down Victoria and James. We haven't forgotten." He shakes Edward's hand. "You take care of her," he stresses with a stern look, then grins at Edward's nodding and smiling face, "I know you will."

He walks up to Alice, "You too, Alice. I wish it were better circumstances, but I'm glad we met," he repeats as he bends to hug her.

"Thank you for everything. This isn't goodbye though, we'll see you again." Alice smiles up at him.

He looks at her for a moment with a twinkle in his eyes. "Inviting me to the wedding?"

"Of course. You're a friend."

"Thank you, I'm honored," he blushes slightly. He looks at Jasper. "Same thing I told him. Take care of her," he remarks, as he shakes Jasper's hand.

"How can I not, she'll take dessert away if I fail!" Jasper laughs, and then says, "You have nothing to worry about. I will take very good care of her."

After more handshakes and farewells, Embry climbs into the driver's seat, starts up the wagon and waves goodbye to us as they slowly drive away.

I look around at all my family and friends here on the veranda; Alice and Jasper with arms around each other, the same with Emmett and Rosalie. Then there's Carlisle and Esme holding hands, the same with Seth and Tanya. The surprise is when I see Leah holding hands with Detective Uley. I tilt my head at her as she notices my stare. She blushes prettily, looks up at Sam, then back to me.

"Bella, Sam and I have recently started seeing each other, in case you're wondering," she blushes brighter, with a happy smile on her face.

"I really hope you'll all start calling me Sam, especially now that the case is solved. And you'll be seeing me around more. I'm thinking of transferring from the Port office to the City of Savannah, so I'll be closer." He looks at all of us and then down to Leah with a grin.

"The more the merrier," is all I can say, truly happy for Leah.

H~~H

**Middle of Summer**

A month after Jacob's arrest, due to the three murder counts, Jacob's case was expedited to top priority through the court system. We all went daily to the courthouse for Jacob's trial which only lasted a week. The first day, Detective Uley took the witness stand, cataloging the various charges. In great detail, he explained the investigation itself, performed by himself and Officer Call. He further elaborated on Jacob's confession and his attempt on my life. There were so many witnesses who would corroborate his story of the confessions Jacob made that day that Detective Uley was the only one required to take the stand.

Jacob didn't bother to deny his actions. His face expressionless and voice resigned, he spoke with little emotion of his involvement in the deaths of his father, Charlie and Renee. The only time he seemed remorseful was when he was questioned about the attempted murder charge. I truly don't know if it was because he regretted the attempt on my life or if it was because he failed. He never apologized for anything, _so I think I have my answer_.

During his days on the witness stand, he went into great detail about his family's history. He provided a wealth of information about the Clearwater murders and the commission of arson on the Clearwaters' home, laying to rest the thirty five year old mystery.

He spoke about Billy Black's use of a plant commonly known as Foxglove. Its botanical name is Digitalis, and its leaves are poisonous. The leaves can be ground to a fine powder and, when ingested can cause symptoms which mimic a heart attack. This plant was used by Billy Black to kill Harry Clearwater. This information was confirmed by Special Agent Appel of the FBI.

Jacob spoke of his family's mob connections, stating that the group known as the Black Hand was involved in the Clearwater fire. They refused Billy Black's request for the hit on Charlie and Renee, however, claiming Billy was petty in his desire for revenge. This incensed Billy even further, and he took their lives himself.

With more questions to Jacob, we learned that he never dealt directly with Mr. Matranga. I don't think anything more will come of this aspect. But, that doesn't mean that the FBI wasn't listening to his every word—_closely_.

Finally, he spoke about Billy Black's dealing with the Kings' Bank. Part of Master Black's obligations in return for the Black Hand's involvement in the Clearwater fire was that he launders money for the mob. When Mister Black started selling his tobacco crop to the underground, he continued the legacy of money laundering. Mr. King received a cut off the top for his risks and efforts.

In the end, Jacob was found guilty of three counts of murder in the first degree, one count of attempted murder in the first degree, arson in the first degree, manslaughter in the third degree, aiding and abetting murder in the second degree and various other charges. With his murder convictions alone, Jacob automatically received the death penalty.

Until 1924, the death sentence was carried out by hanging. This was the year the electric chair was introduced in the State of Georgia. Now, almost all death row prisoners were given the chair. The last hanging in Georgia history was June 17, 1931. Jacob is scheduled to be put to death within three months via the chair pending any last minute appeals.

Since Jacob has no other relatives, the Judge felt restitution was in order for the Clearwaters, Alice and me. The court split the Black land, goods and cash between the four of us. In his words, "The Blacks have devastated your families. They have incurred a debt which will never be able to be repaid."

H~~H

Alice and I decide, after discussing it with Jasper and Edward, to give up our half of the land to Seth and Leah. Jasper and Edward agree wholeheartedly. It was the Clearwaters' birthright in the first place. Seth and Leah are so overcome with emotion neither can speak. It took an additional month after the trial, but with the help of Mr. Grey, all the documents are now properly signed and the property is reinstated in Seth and Leah Clearwater's name.

Jasper, Alice, Seth and Leah walked from room to room in the Blacks' house and put a value to all the furnishings, jewelry, works of art and collectibles. I refused to set foot in that house again. Everything which could be sold was, with all the proceeds divided between the two families. There was nothing any of us wanted to keep, as it would only be a reminder of the Blacks and their black, twisted hearts.

After the house had been gutted and cleared out of any usable items, such as stained glass doors and windows that again were sold, the monstrosity was completely demolished. No trace is left of the Blacks. Seth and Leah are working with a builder and are creating two, two-storied ranch style homes with a connecting breezeway where the Victorian once stood. It's taking no time to build, as they are the first new homes to be built in our area in almost four years. Workers are eager and plentiful.

Seth and Leah mutually agree this is the last year their property will grow tobacco. They're going to start growing cotton. Carlisle assured them that he would purchase their crop since the tariffs were lifted last year.

H~~H

With Seth now overseeing and working their fields, Edward is assisting Emmett here. I must admit I am in awe of his abilities. He is made for the land and it shows in how well he takes control and enjoys it.

Emmett, Rosalie, Edward and I are standing on the veranda, enjoying a quick break after lunch before getting back to our chores. Emmett looks at Edward and jokingly suggests, "I may be out of a job soon."

Edward is horrified at his statement. "You will always have a job and a place here, Emmett. Always! For as long as you want it. You're the best at what you do, Charlie even spoke of it. Plus, you stayed with Bella and Alice when they needed you most. I'll never be able to thank you enough for that," he reassures him.

Emmett is stunned by the sentiment and gives Edward a man hug, whispering, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Edward grins as he moves to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top my head. "Bella and I have also been talking about renovating the Carriage House into a home for you. We can build a place to store the vehicles. The ranch vehicles already have a storage spot. We'd like to refurbish it. You would have plenty of room for a growing family," he continues. "Of course, you're welcome to stay here or the Foreman's Cottage, but we thought you might enjoy having a larger, more private space of your own."

Again, Emmett is shocked. For a few minutes, he can't speak as he stares at Edward and me. Rosalie walks over to him and he embraces her with his face hidden in her hair. He finally looks up, his eyes cloudy with moisture, and softly murmurs, "Thank you." That's all, but it's more than enough. I hug Edward to me. This was all his idea and what a wonderful idea it is.

H~~H

I'm delighted to discover, I am indeed pregnant. I've only had a minor bout of morning sickness which lasted four days, but you would have thought the world was coming to an end with the way Edward hovered over me. Luckily, I had Mrs. Cope and Esme to calm him down. Mrs. Cope is thrilled a little one will be arriving.

But, it's Esme and Carlisle who are more than thrilled. They're making plans to return to England with the harvest, hire a new business manager for their businesses there, and close up their home. They want to return in time to welcome the little one and maybe look for a home close by. I've told them they're more than welcome to live here. Esme and Carlisle were so choked up by the offer that they couldn't stop saying how lucky they feel that Edward and I found each other.

Edward is also lucky, or maybe it's me, because with my hormones raging, I'm in constant need of his personal attention in a very private way. I simply have to lower my lashes, as I stare at his hair, his eyes, his jaw or his mouth and moments later we have absconded to our room. Very lucky, indeed.

H~~H

Alice and Jasper have moved into the Brandon house since Seth, Tanya, Sam and Leah are staying in the first home with a roof. Yes, Seth and Tanya are officially a couple now. Tanya has taken it upon herself to create their own family garden, plus she takes care of their livestock.

She told me how much she loves this new way of life and can't see ever returning to England. As she put it, "I'm done with all the artifice which used to rule my every waking moment. All the pretense and snobbery that I was a part of—is now gone. I only need me to be satisfied with who I am and try to always make Seth happy."

"Tanya, you do make Seth happy. I've never seen him this buoyant or enthralled. He loves you for who you are now, never doubt him or yourself," I remind her.

She nods her head in agreement. "I can't explain to you how much it means to me to hear you say that. Seth idolizes you. You've done so much for him and Leah. He feels he'll never be able to repay you. To know that you approve of me for him, someone who is like a brother to you," she pauses searching for words to express her thoughts. "I caused heartbreak to Esme and Carlisle. Edward, your family and friends suffered. Yet, everyone is giving me this second chance. It's like living a dream. I never want to wake up. Thank you, Bella." Nothing more needs to be said, so I simply smile and hug her.

The strangest change for me is how quiet the house has become. Breakfast, lunch and dinner had, at one point, increased to fourteen people all talking and laughing. Now breakfast and lunch is anywhere from seven to nine people, depending on whether Jasper and Alice come by.

We've recently hired two additional helpers for Mrs. Cope and Esme in the kitchen. One is a sweet girl, named Bree, who used to work in a bakery, so her duties include making breads, biscuits and desserts. The other is an older gentleman from France, named Laurent, who has introduced us to fabulous soufflés, crepes, and other marvelous creations. Rosalie and I take care of the cleaning the house, laundry, the livestock and the family garden.

H~~H

The date has been set. Next month, on August 17th, there will be a small wedding. But not just any wedding, oh no! Since Emmett is actually earning wages again, he proposed to Rosalie. _Finally!_

So, a wedding ceremony is being planned which will include all three couples. None of us want or need all the frills of a large wedding. Besides, it's here, on the Plantation, where all of us came together, where we all became engaged. So it's here we want to be married. Reverend Weber has agreed to officiate.

Alice and I speak about how we wish Charlie and Renee would be here. Since Charlie is not here to walk us to our husbands-to-be, we asked Carlisle, who was such a dear friend to our parents, if he will give us away. Carlisle, with a joyous smile, responds, "I will proudly stand in for and honor Charlie by delivering you to your future husbands."

Seth, Tanya, Leah and Sam will be our witnesses. Daisy Grace is joining us and will be our flower girl with Embry as our ring bear. Esme and Mrs. Cope will stand in as Mothers of the brides.

So along with the daily chores, Alice, Rosalie and I are busy making our wedding dresses. We don't want or need fancy gowns. Rosalie already had that and it didn't bring her happiness.

I'm starting to show and will be larger when the wedding day arrives. Alice likes the idea of us all having the same look, so we agree on empire style, full length dresses. They are delicately cupped at the shoulders with a sheer lace overlay. My dress is white, to signify the cotton fields, which brought us all together and will be our background, with a light blue sash tied under the bust. Alice's dress is light blue, for the color of the afternoon sky when we marry, with a light pink sash. And Rosalie's dress is light pink, sure to match the blush of our cheeks when we say 'I do,' with a white sash. Rosalie continues to giggle with delight remembering Alice's words about wearing pink. Her demeanor so different from her last wedding, and this time, she will truly be a blushing bride.

H~~H

A week before the wedding we heard the official news that the King Bank is closed for good. Royce and Mr. King were found and arrested for money laundering, theft of property through foreclosures, and other charges of unethical and illegal banking practices. The bank was property rich but cash poor, so unfortunately, those with money in savings or checking accounts lost their funds. The State of Georgia is going to auction the properties, in the hopes of paying some monies back to depositors.

Rosalie's parents tracked her down to the Plantation and attempted to reunite with her. After the letter she received, she was not interested in what they had to say. They pleaded from the veranda, to a closed front door, apologizing for their grievous mistakes. Her father lost his job, and even though businesses were starting to reopen, with jobs becoming available, the taint from working for the Kings for so long and their highly visible friendship was making it difficult for him to find another. People don't trust anyone who worked for the Kings or their associates. Her mother cries as she explains how they've lost their home, friends, and now their only daughter. She begs for forgiveness and help.

Finally, Rosalie has had enough. She pulled open the door with such force, it crashed against the wall.

"How dare you come here and tell me that I have to help you! Did you listen to me when I pleaded not to be forced to marry Royce? Did you care for me when I told you I was scared of him? When he hit me? Did you care about the life I lived with Royce? When I told you he was sleeping with Lauren every night in what was supposed to be my marriage bed and home?" she raged.

"No, all you cared about were yourselves. You, Mr. Hale, only cared about keeping your high paying job and friendship with the all mighty_ Kings_. And you, Mrs. Hale, only cared about moving higher up your social ladder and _used_ me for it. You told me to quit bitching and do my wifely duty, and maybe he would then set aside Lauren. You even went so far as to track down my lawyer, _disowned_ me and cursed me in a _letter_. And now you stand here, expecting me to _help_?" She's incredulous.

"_No_, that is not going to happen! I have a family here who loves _me_. They took me in when I had no one and nothing to my name, and didn't ask for anything in return. _They_ love me for _me_! I have a man who is going to marry _me_. _He_ loves me for _me_, and not what I bring him in wealth or status, because I have nothing to offer him except my love and undying devotion," she proudly proclaims.

"_Do not come here again!_ You cut your ties with me and now I am cutting mine with _you_." And with this said, she grabbed the door and slammed it shut. She doesn't cry, nor does she look sad or like the Snow Queen. In fact, she looks as if she is finally free from the ghosts of her past.

Emmett walks up and embraces her in his huge, protective arms and kisses her head. When she looks up at him with a smile, he returns it. "I'm so proud of you, Rosalie. You stood up to them and put them in their place. I'm getting a little worried, though." Her brow furrows, wondering where he's going with the last comment. "I think you need to stay away from Bella and Alice. You're becoming feisty like them," he smirks.

Rosalie reaches up and rubs his jaw softly, then whacks him hard on the back of his head—which actually rocks forward.

"Ow, that hurt!" He winces.

"Don't mess with Bella and Alice, or me for that matter, Emmett McCarty, or you'll get more of the same," she haughtily demands, with a small smile on her lips.

He grins at her, then he dips her low, causing her to squeal as she grabs onto his arms, and kisses her soundly. "I love you so much," he murmurs.

"I love you too," she returns happily.

H~~H

**Edward**

**August 17****th**** 1935**

Reverend Weber is wearing an amused expression, while he stands patiently on the bottom step of the veranda. Jasper, Emmett and I are dressed in our new wedding suits. I'm waiting impatiently for Leah to finish pinning a small bundle of light blue hydrangeas to Jasper's jacket. Emmett is already wearing light pink azaleas on his, as he keeps looking inside the house, trying to see the girls.

Finally, Leah makes her way over to me, as I check my pocket watch for the time, _again_. She lifts her brows at me and smirks at my edginess. "Getting worried she won't be here?" Leah chuckles.

"She wouldn't do that, would she? She's not having second thoughts, is she?" Panic suddenly takes over. Does Leah know something I don't? She looks startled, and then laughs under her breath.

"Edward, you need to calm down. You have nothing to fear. Bella is yours, in every sense of the word," she replies, and proceeds to pin a single white rose to my lapel.

Taking a couple of calming breaths, I try to focus on something. "What do the flowers represent?" I need a diversion desperately.

"Well, Emmett's color signifies youth, joy, and gentility. Pink flowers, in soft pastels, charm us with innocence and sweetness. They first fell in love when they were in high school. It seems fitting," she answers. "The blue in Jasper's flowers have a few meanings. It signifies the uplifting spirit of a sun-filled sky, or the confidence of a blue-ribbon victory. But mostly it represents faithfulness, loyalty, intelligence and peace." I nod, because the symbolism fits both couples.

"And the white rose?" I'm curious now.

"Yes, the white rose. When most people think about the color white, tranquility, purity and peacefulness tend to come to mind. The single white rose has long signified the purity of feeling between lovers; or the purity and innocence of the soul, or the person receiving it; or the purity of long and lasting love," she smiles up at me. She smooth's down my lapel and looks up at me again, "Very appropriate, don't you agree?"

"Very appropriate indeed," I agree, because it's true. Bella has a pure, innocent soul and she is my long and lasting love. My mind flashes to the very first time I ever saw her beautiful features in a photograph and knew then I had to meet her. She radiates kindness and love, and I am forever thankful she is mine, always.

Sam and Seth walk over to one side of me, each carrying a stool and a guitar. They settle themselves on the stools as Leah walks over to stand between them. The sound of the front door opening has Emmett's, Jasper's and my attention, as we wait to see our brides-to-be, with grins on our faces. However, it's Tanya who walks out, looking lovely. But she's the only one.

She pauses as she looks at the three of us, and our wavering smiles. "There used to be a time when I could light up a room. I guess today isn't one of those days," she quips, and laughingly walks down the stairs, past us, to stand beside Seth. He grins widely and kisses her quickly. "You're the only one who matters now," she says softly.

"I know," Seth replies, with joy on his features. Seth and Sam begin to strum chords.

The front door opens, and once again, we all look up as Esme and Mrs. Cope come out. "Alright boys, are you ready?"

My mom asks the most ridiculous questions sometimes. We all look at each other wondering if she's insane.

Emmett looks at Jasper and me. "I'm ready, what about you two?"

Jasper answers, "More than ready." They both look to me.

"Was ready months ago. I'm past ready," I sulkily answer back. Everyone laughs at my expense.

My mom is smiling brightly, as she comes down the steps to stand beside me and looks at us all. "Then I suggest you turn around and look at your brides," she winks.

We all three immediately spin around. Sure enough, there they are, walking towards us, down through the rows of cotton. The sun is shining above, the blue sky as their background matching Alice's dress perfectly. As they move closer, specks of cotton fiber flutter in the air, looking like little snow flakes. Once they reach the end of their rows, they stop.

Daisy Grace looks stunning. She's dressed in a classic garden party print dress, with a white background, large light blue flowers and pink petals. She begins to move forward casting pink, blue and white petals all around, with Embry following her close behind. _Is he watching her backside?_

Seth and Sam start playing their guitars in earnest, with Leah and Tanya softly singing. I recognize the song. It's called 'How Deep is the Ocean, How High is the Sky?'

How much do I love you? I'll tell you no lie

How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky?

How many times a day do I think of you?

How many roses are sprinkled with dew?

How far would I travel? To be where you are?

How far is the journey from here to a star?

And that's all I really hear, because my eyes are focused on Bella and how utterly, heart stoppingly, beautiful she is. She takes my breath away. From the corner of my eye, I can see my dad walking Rosalie to Emmett.

Bella is wearing the most serene smile and her sensual eyes are bright with joyful tears. I want to go to her, but then I feel my mom's hand on my arm, reminding me not to move. From the corner of my eye I see my dad walking Alice to Jasper. I hear Jasper sigh once she reaches him. I try mentally to will my father to run to Bella, to bring her immediately to me. But he takes his time, as if he has all day. My mom grips me tighter.

Bella is wearing a simple white dress with a blue sash under her full breasts. Her thick brown hair is swept up, creating a halo around her lovely, delicate features. She's magnificent, with the background enhancing her silhouette. My dad finally reaches her, offers her his arm, which she accepts without breaking eye contact with me. He, oh so slowly, strolls her to me, making me wonder if he's getting tired and he needs my help to bring her to me. Again, my mom's grip tightens.

Finally, she's in front of me. My dad kisses her cheek, chuckles at me, and then places her warm hand in mine, as we both feel the current that reconnects our souls. I bring her hand to my lips and graze her knuckles lightly, softly whispering, "I love you."

She whispers, "I love you," back before we both turn to Reverend Weber.

The ceremony itself is simple. Reverend Weber requests, "Now join hands, and with your hands, your hearts."

"I, Emmett receive you, Rosalie; I, Jasper receive you, Mary Alice; and I, Edward receive you, Isabella, as my partner and love, beside me and apart from me; in laughter and in tears; in sickness and in health; in conflict and serenity; asking that you be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you and trusting what I do not know. In all the ways that life may bring. You have vowed your love to each other. Are you now ready to confirm that love in the responsibilities of marriage? If so answer, "WE ARE," he asks. And we all do.

"May I have your rings, please?" he asks, and Embry hands the pillow to him. Each ring set has a ribbon matching the color of the respective bride's dress.

"Your rings, by their very shape, are symbols of eternal unity, without beginning or end. They are the emblem of the love that exists between you and characterize your devotion to one another. Let them always remind you of the commitments you make today," Reverend Weber says. Then he hands Emmett, Jasper and me our rings and asks us to pledge ourselves.

In unison we say to our beloveds: "With this ring, I promise to grow with you to build our love; to speak openly and honestly and to listen to you; to love and cherish you for all the days ahead. From this day forward, you shall not walk alone. My heart will be your shelter and my arms will be your home. With this ring, I thee wed.

We both watch as I place the wedding band on her finger. We then gaze at each other and my eyes are as misty as hers.

Then those amazing words are given back to me by my Bella, in a husky voice, as she tries to hold back her joyful tears, and when she places my band on my finger, I'm forever home.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," Reverend Weber proclaims.

Emmett lets out a whoop as he dips Rosalie low. Jasper picks up Alice and twirls her around. I cup my Bella's beautiful and serene face, while her hands reach up to clasp mine, and our kiss is slow, passionate and loving—always burning with desire.


	28. New Orleans

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**Ficfangirl is absolutely brilliant in her suggestions and knowledge. Thank you, ficfangirl, so very much! **

**I am continually amazed at the encouragement and support I have received in reviews, pm's, followers, story favorites, rec's and your time. A special thank you to QuinnLark. In her story Caged Skylark she recommended H~~H. It's a great read. Check it out. Thank you all so much for reading and your time. **

**Chapter 27**

**New Orleans**

**Autumn – 1935**

**Edward**

It's the end of October and the end of my first harvest. We did well in our bounty and I'm proud to have contributed. Our prime cotton is baled and waiting at the port for loading onto the Cullen ships, along with the Clearwater's tobacco. My parents and Mrs. Cope are leaving for England, and we all take the train together, to see them off. And I mean everyone! We have the Clearwaters, along with Tanya and Sam, the Whitlock's, the McCarty's, Daisy, Embry and of course my Bella and me. We have the whole car to ourselves, since we're a loud and boisterous group.

So much change has taken place since our wedding. My gaze wanders around from person to person, people whom I proudly call family and friends. My eyes rest on Daze and Embry. They're the newest happy couple in our extended family. After meeting the day of the wedding, Embry used his vacation time and followed her back to Charleston.

Jasper, had mentioned he and Alice wanted to open a shop in Savannah. This immediately interested my dad. They did, in fact, end up purchasing the King's old bank, with my dad as a silent partner, opening the second, 'Vault.' The first floor is a pawn shop and antiques store, which Alice named Whitlock's Whimsy's. The second floor has offices for Jasper, Alice, my dad and Daisy, along with an extensive library for research.

Daisy had insisted that Jasper let her transfer to the Savannah shop, so she could be closer to Embry—who now works for the City. Alice ensured her it would be done. She really likes Daisy and Embry will forever have a place in our family.

Daisy and Jasper hired a new overseer for the Charleston shop. A young man, named Riley Biers. He studied ancient European and Middle Eastern artifacts, with the hope to someday be a museum curator. With jobs still being scarce he readily accepted the position. He found he had more freedom to study varied and interesting objects of North America design, thereby increasing his knowledge. He's enjoying his job immensely from all I've heard and is consistently increasing the bottom line.

My eyes wander to Sam. He was a _huge_ surprise. Jacob's new attorney was appealing his death sentence. Citing Jacob was mentally insane, and was not given a fair trial, based on his malady. A Fifth Circuit Appeals Judge was brought in to review the case. Both Bella and Sam were summoned to testify.

H~~H

In the courtroom, we're all sitting in the back, except for Sam, who's sitting at the table for the prosecution. We're listening to the State Attorney, as he requests that the Judge excuse Bella from reliving the horrors of that day. He asserts that too much stress could cause undo harm for her or her unborn child. When Jacob heard she was pregnant, he immediately turned around and then gasped as he stared at her swollen belly. He bursts out in a fit of rage claiming, "That should be my child and Bella is mine forever."

He suddenly springs from his chair and leaps over the railing to try to get to her. Carlisle, Embry, Seth, Emmett, Jasper, and I all form a barrier between Jacob and my Bella. _There was no way in hell he is ever touching her again!_

"She's mine Cullen," he yells at me, when we're face to face. I have Jasper and Emmett flanking my sides, in our first line of defense. Over my head and the heads of Seth, Carlisle and Embry, he shouts, "He won't marry you now Bella. Mark my words; he doesn't love you like I do."

He tries to slip past us, but we aren't moving, as we pushed him back to the officers who are trying to restrain him from behind.

"Stop it, Jacob. Just stop it, right now!" Bella seethes at him. "We _did_ get married last month and _NO_ this baby should not be yours! Get over yourself, Jacob!" Then I hear her take a deep breath and shouts again at him, "Knowing what I do, you killing my parents, do you really think I would ever marry _you_? Or have children with _you_? You're trying to claim insanity, _Jacob_, why would I even want you… _if you're insane?"_

You can hear Jacob's lawyer yelling at him "not to answer that." But Jacob feels the need to speak his mind. He's still struggling with the officers, who are trying to put restraints on his wrists, as he's pushing his chest into mine.

"I'm not insane and you damn well _know it_! I'm _sorry_ about your parents. I'm _sorry_ about the pain I caused you. Really, I am." The officers are finally able to restrain his wrists and are trying to pull him from the courtroom.

All the while he's shouting, "If I could do it over again, if things were different between you and me, I never would have done it. I just wanted you, however I could get you. The only insanity I can be accused of is, how much I've always loved you, how I'm in love with you!" Jacob breaks down and starts crying as the officers finally yank him out of the courtroom, while Embry makes sure the doors are shut.

The Judge is repeatedly calling for "order in the court," as I make my way back to my Bella. I wrap her in my arms, holding her tight, as she's still shaking with her rage. When the courtroom has finally quieted down, the Judge kindly asks, "Are you alright, Mrs. Cullen?" Bella simply nods her head, as I soothingly rub her back.

The Judge glances over at Jacob's lawyer who has his head in his hands, and then looks to the State Attorney. "I grant your motion to excuse Mrs. Cullen from testifying. I don't need any more outbursts like that again and I most definitely _do not_ want Mrs. Cullen to be further aggravated by Mr. Black."

Jacob's lawyer has pulled his head up and the Judge glares at him. "Your client, from now on will be fully restrained to the table and chair for the duration of this trial. And if he continues with his outbursts, he will either be gagged or removed. Is that understood?" Jacob's lawyer merely nods his head. "We will take a short recess while Mr. Black is returned to the courtroom."

When Sam is called to testify, he's only allowed to speak about what he heard, witnessed and his actions that took place in the office. Sam was on the stand for the whole day. Jacob's lawyer kept trying to get Sam to say that Jacob's actions were crazy, nuts, insane, etc., but Sam never spoke them.

Jacob never uttered another word. Two days later, Jacob's appeal was denied and the case is now officially forever closed. His execution date is scheduled for Friday, February 26, 1936. It will be carried out at a state prison—the Old Prison Farm at Milledgeville in Baldwin County, where all electrocutions are held.

H~~H

Something happened to Sam that day in the office. It continued to trouble him during his two times on the witness stand and Jacob's bolt to take Bella again. He remains tight lipped about it, but I think he feels responsible, for the dangerous situation Bella found herself in. He was the one who had insisted that to lure Jacob to us; Bella was needed as the bait, not realizing how volatile Jacob was.

He made a brief reference once, to feeling helpless and useless to save her, but it was all he said. He quit the force after the second trial. He asked Seth if he could use his help, possibly working on their plantation, to help clear his mind.

Seth, understanding his need for a change of vocation, and knowing that Sam and Leah were committed to and destined for each other, gave him the position of Assistant Foreman in training. Sam took to farming like a fish to water.

The stress of working homicide cases, at such an early age, had taken it's toll; not only on his psyche, but it made him appear older then he really was. He's now a new, happier, healthier man, in body, mind and spirit.

H~~H

Seth and Leah's homes are now complete. Jasper and Alice spent time with both couples; asking what type of furniture and décor they wanted for their new homes. Jasper and Alice spent weeks roaming around the country side, visiting various towns and attending several auctions. They found interesting pieces to furnish their homes, explaining the periods and history—if any was known.

When Bella and I went to visit Seth and Tanya's newly furnished home, the scene which greeted us is one that still makes me laugh.

At first, we walked through the beautifully decorated home, calling out for them. No one answered. We were confused and then we heard Tanya, clearly in distress, "Seth is there anything I can do to help," from out back. We rushed outside towards their voices.

When we reach the barn door, there's Seth holding down the head of one of his milk cows, giving Tanya instructions, to help with the birth of a breech calf. "You need to stick your arm up the birth canal and grab onto to its hoof's—if you can," he soothingly says.

I stop right where I am, just outside the barn door, completely stunned.

"You have got to be kidding me! You can't be serious, I can't do it, Seth," Tanya whimpers.

Bella, turns into my side with a hand covering her mouth, trying not to laugh, but I can still hear her giggles and snorts.

"Tanya, you have to. I have to keep her still and you can't hold her down. This is Jane we're talking about. She's your favorite milker. If you don't do it, then we may as well just watch the both of them suffer or possibly die. Do you want that?" Seth reasons, quietly.

Jane looks at Tanya with big, wide eyes rolling in distress, blood red where the white should be and moans lowly, while fluid gushes from the birth passage. You can see the conflict in Tanya's eyes, but then she steels herself, gaining a look of determination. She walks to the hind quarters of Jane, kneels down, as ever so slowly, she inserts her hand. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut as she wears a grimace on her face, while yelling, "Ew, ew, ew, I swear Jane! You're never going to be in the same pen as Alec ever again. _This is dreadful!"_

"Tanya, sweetie, you need to lower your voice. You're getting Jane more upset and I don't want to lose the battle, especially with you so close to her legs. She might kick you. You're doing great, do you feel anything?" He coaxes her.

Tanya is starting to cry, and as I'm about to let our presence be known, and maybe help hold the head down so Seth can help with the birth, Tanya squeaks.

"I think I feel one. OUCH!" her face erupts in pain. "She's squeezing my arm off! Holy cow that hurts!" her face contorts, as she whimpers, between gritted teeth. After a few moments she wheezes out, "No, there's two! You want me to pull them out?" she sobs quietly.

"Yes sweetie, that's it! Bring them out and as soon as you can, use both hands, and pull the calf out when you feel her contract again," Seth cajoles as he instructs.

"I don't want to feel her contract again, it hurts," she grunts, as she seems to keep her hold on the hoofs and is slowly pulling them towards her.

"Not always," Seth snicker's under his breath.

"Oh, don't you be getting smart with me right now, while I'm down here, Seth Clearwater. That's how she got into this trouble in the first place, letting some bull ride her," Tanya sasses and then let out a loud groan, while slowly pulling the calf out, with the contraction. "At least, I don't squeeze like a cow, I hope," she breathlessly mutters.

At that, Seth lets out a bark of laughter. "No sweetie, definitely not like a cow," as he continues to snicker quietly. Bella is laughing silently into my chest, while I now have my hand covering my mouth, trying to not to let my laughter be heard.

Minutes pass, as Tanya slowly continues to inch the hoofs towards her. Finally, she's pulled them into view and I'm fascinated. Now able to use both hands, the pulling is easier and within two strong contractions and tugs, she brings out a beautiful little calf.

Seth, immediately leaps off of Jane and walks over to a stunned Tanya. He grabs her around the waist and away from the heifer and calf. We all watch, as Jane slowly stands up to move to her calf, which is lying unmoving on the ground—to gently nudge it.

"Is it alive?" Tanya gasps in concern.

"Look at the chest. See it rising? You did great sweetie," Seth praises, standing behind Tanya with his chin resting on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her.

Jane's nudges, finally, elicit a response from the calf and it moves to a sitting position.

"We did it. We saved them," Tanya breaths out in awe of the miracle.

"Congratulations Tanya, you did extremely well, assisting in your first birth," Bella praises from where we stand in the barn door.

"You saw that? With my hand up there," she's embarrassed, as she waves towards Jane.

"You did what needed to be done. I've done it, so has Alice, Rosalie and Mrs. Cope," Bella replies in a matter of fact voice, shrugging her shoulders. Then her smile brightens, "Look at the reward."

The little calf is struggling to stand and after a few tries, finds its footing and slowly makes its way to its mama's teats.

Tanya's embarrassment turns to pride, as she watches the pair.

"I've got to say, Tanya, never in my wildest imagination, did I ever think you would become a country girl. It looks good on you," I smile at her, while holding my Bella to my side.

"You and me both Edward, but if it looks good, then know this, it feels ten times better," she laughs, and then turns to hug Seth.

H~~H

Seeing my parents and Mrs. Cope off is bittersweet. We all know they'll only be gone for two months at most. But, my parents have become such an integral part of not only my daily life, but everyone else's.

For Seth and Leah, my dad set up their books, which they need to run their plantation. Seth has a firm grasp on the farming aspect and can always ask for Emmett's opinions. But, neither Seth nor Leah knew much about the record keeping. Leah decided she would take care of the books. Carlisle spent hours with Leah, teaching her everything he knew. Of course, I'll always be there to help, but the bond my dad formed with the Clearwaters is very touching. He took them under his wing like a second father. They jokingly started calling him Papa Cullen until it became second nature to just call him Papa C. My mom started to be referred to as Mama Cullen then it morphed to Mama Esme. Which the McCartys and Whitlock's' soon picked up. Now everyone calls them that and my parents couldn't be happier.

My mom, of course, is head over heels in love with Bella, Alice, Rosalie and Leah. As far as she's concerned, "Those girls can do no wrong."

When we found out Alice and Jasper were expecting, my mom asked Alice, "Since you're like my own daughter, could I be your baby's Nana, too."

Alice with misty eyes could only say, "Please."

While Jasper chokingly added, "Thank you."

Of course my dad piped up and asked to be part of the grandparent team. Now, since both of them are expecting, my mom has repeatedly made reassurances that they _will_ be back as soon as possible, to welcome her grandbabies.

Mrs. Cope already knew she had grand-mama status and was exceedingly pleased.

Tanya, at some point in time, must have told my parents about her part in my unwelcoming committee, to the States. My mom was cool towards her for a while, but eventually she realized that Bella and I had forgiven her, and then so did she—_begrudgingly._ I think Esme was concerned that Tanya might revert back to her old ways. But I could have told her it wouldn't happen.

Tanya enjoys this peaceful life. Her face is clean of the mask of make-up; her hair is more often in a ponytail, then styled with the need to always impress. "I've learned I like myself for whom I am and can be, not what society or my parents insisted I should be."

Another thing Tanya has now, which she never had before, is friends who are not only female, but also love and treat her like a sister. Like me, she grew up in a world of competition and every one of your gender—was your rival. Hers was for beauty, style, stature, wealth and who captured the best available man.

Tanya now spends a majority of her time at home in their family garden or with the livestock. Plus, she's learning to cook, bake and canning with Mrs. Cope. All the women take turns teaching her, which is made easy for her to learn, since we all have dinner on the Plantation together most nights. For almost two months now, seven couples usually gather in our dining room, along with Bree and Laurent, while Mrs. Cope has the honorary seat at the head of the table.

When the discussion first came up about my parents returning to England, my mom asked, "Tanya, will you be joining us?"

Tanya looked instantly dismayed and then depressed as she glanced from Esme, then to Seth.

Seth searched her eyes and only said one word, "Stay."

Relief, hope and joy flooded her features, as she answered with a simple, "Yes."

Now they're engaged and the same holds true for Sam and Leah. And I have a feeling Embry and Daisy will soon be too.

And then there's my Bella, gorgeous wife, goddess temptress, mother of my unborn child, partner in this life and my souls other half. She's everything and more than I could have ever desired in a woman. And we finally get to enjoy our honeymoon, along with everyone else, except my parents and Mrs. Cope.

When we first spoke about going somewhere at dinner one evening, we all discussed, how the three newly married couples should go to separate destinations. But, as more cities and sites were thrown out, the more difficult it became to choose. Bella and Alice had always wanted to go to either New York or New Orleans, as their top choices for here in the States. Neither felt comfortable with the idea of traveling to Europe in their present conditions.

Jasper and Emmett agreed with the New Orleans option. It was soon decided we would all go to New Orleans. As I glanced around the table at the non-married couples, it bothered me. When I thought about how hard they worked, the same as the married couples did, and they needed time off as well and so there you have it.

We all tried to persuade Mrs. Cope to come with us, but she declined explaining, "I wouldn't be able to keep up with all of you." This is when my parents insisted she come with them and she happily agreed.

Sam and Embry knew a few single men from the force, who they trusted, to stay at the various homes, to watch over them and keep them safe. Laurent and Bree settled into the spare bedrooms on the Plantation to cook for them. Though, I must admit, Mrs. Cope looked a little teary eyed when she said good-bye to Laurent.

After seeing my parents and Mrs. Cope off we re-boarded the train. Six couples are now traveling to New Orleans. It's like one big family vacation and I really couldn't be more pleased.

H~~H

The train trip was long with a few changes at various depots. We could have driven the straight 550 miles, or so, ourselves. By train we travel up to Tennessee and then down towards New Orleans. But we wouldn't have enjoyed the beautiful scenery or the various pleasant conversations. We would have needed to find hotels along the way, whereas, here on the train we have sleeping berths and the convenience of restrooms. The men were in charge of the planning. The only thing Jasper and I insisted on, was making Bella and Alice as comfortable as possible, in their delicate conditions. Of course, everyone easily agreed.

Jasper, having been the only one to have actually traveled through New Orleans, told us about the two hotels we would want to stay in. Not that he ever had. He was transient at the time. He was looking forward to staying a few days at the luxurious Hotel Monteleone, located in the French Quarters. Years ago, he had vowed to himself, to one day stay in one of their suites, and now he is.

Jasper keeps us entertained with his knowledge of facts regarding New Orleans. He explains that New Orleans was originally founded as the capital of the French colony of Louisiana in 1718. New Orleans was actually twice named the state capital. The title of capital city was moved from New Orleans to Donaldsonville in 1825, to Baton Rouge in 1846, back to New Orleans in 1864 and then again to Baton Rouge in 1879.

He explained that Canal Street was once the widest street in the world. It was named for a canal that was planned for, but never built, on the street's dividing median. For decades, the median's only use has been for public transportation, mostly by the Canal Street streetcars.

One of the largest municipal parks in the country, New Orleans' City Park, is also home to the famous Duelling Oaks. It was here, that many Creole gentlemen frequently met to settle scores with swords, pistols, and sometimes even Bowie knives. One such duel actually took place because one man spoke ill of the Mississippi River and another took offence to it. We all laughed at that.

In 1872, the official colors of Mardi Gras were chosen based on an honored visitor to New Orleans: Russian Grand Duke Alexis Romanoff. The purple stands for justice, the green for faith, and the gold for power. I'm disappointed that we'll not be visiting during Mardi Gras, but at the same time, thrilled that we will be missing the masses that over run the City. After enjoying the peacefulness of the Plantation, and definitely not missing the hustle and bustle of London, I'm no longer sure I ever want to be surrounded by so many people.

Once we finally disembark from the train, we gather our luggage, and catch the trolley that eventually stops close to our destination. We walk towards the hotel, with the girls walking together ahead of us, as they take in their surroundings. They're dressed in the latest fashion of dress, silk stockings, low heeled shoes, hat and gloves.

I'm becoming increasingly irritated by the second, at all the men, tipping their hats, with leering smiles on their faces, at them and my Bella. Sam and Jasper, who are walking on either side of me, chuckle as I let out low growl as one over amorous man, sweeps his eyes up and down my Bella's figure. We figure she's close to six months pregnant and is definitely showing. Bella, as well as the other women, seem to be oblivious to the ogling they're receiving, as they continue their close knit chattering.

"Relax Edward, there's no way Bella, or any of our girls for that matter, would ever look at any of those men. I think we all keep our women very happy," Sam smiles at me. I know he's right, I just never realized I was the jealous type, _until now._

"Yeah, he's right Edward. I know I've never missed dessert yet and I don't think you have either," Jasper snickers at me, while Sam bursts out laughing.

Seth, Emmett and Embry having heard the conversation also join in the laughter. Sam's laugh is contagious and I start chuckling with them. This causes the girls to stop, curious to know what we're laughing about. I make my to Bella, her face aglow with her lovely smile as she tilts her head in question, I just smile but shake my head, no. With suitcases still in hand, I bend and quickly kiss her lips, gently.

She cups my face lightly in her gloved hands, as she whispers in my ear, "I'm already getting annoyed at all the women who are casting their eyes at you and the other guys. The girls and I have decided, none of you are allowed out on your own. I hope you're okay with this, because I don't like being a green eyed monster." She pulls back to look into my eyes and, I'm both surprised and elated, that she's feeling the exact emotions I am.

I immediately set down the suitcases, encircle her in my arms and kiss her passionately, right there on the busy sidewalk. Her hands weave into my hair as we joyously express to each other that neither has to worry about green eyed monsters and jealousy.

H~~H

The hotel is very elegant with its enchanting foyer and front lobby. Our suites are well appointed in the latest of modern conveniences, with fabulous views of the city below. We all decide to meet in the lobby in two hours, in order to unpack and unwind from the long train ride.

It doesn't take long for Bella and me to unpack, undress and find ourselves under the blankets. The berths in the sleeping car of the train afforded the traveler privacy. But the walls are very thin and not conducive for the sounds of our lovemaking. It was the first time that we missed our connection. So, we make up for it very slowing and completely.

Now sated, lying on my side, one hand propping up my head, I let my other hand roam over Bella's tight rounded belly. I can feel the little one pushing up under her skin; the bump is so large and round in the palm of my hand, that it feels more like a head, rather then a hand or foot. I've been enjoying feeling the movements for the last few months. I bend my head over the spot and kiss it gently. It pushes harder, making me smile as I kiss it again. It pushes up once more and I laugh lightly, "You need to take a nap little one and not poke your mother so much." I kiss the spot once more, and then the bump slowly lowers itself down, as if the little one understood my words.

I grin, as I look up at my Bella, her features reveal a happy, fulfilled, contented woman. She actually glows, in the streaming sunlight, with her hair spread out across the pillow where she rests. I finally ask the question that I've tried to keep at bay.

"What does Alice say the gender of the baby is?"

Bella starts laughing and her baby belly starts shaking with her mirth. She puts her hands on it to try to stop the movement as she continues to laugh. After a bit—she calms. "Do you really want to know?"

Now my curiosity is well on high. "Well, I'm thinking that if she's already told you, then I believe it only fair to be in on secret," I huff out.

"Don't pout," she chuckles, as she rubs her thumb soothingly across my bottom lip. I kiss the pad of her thumb and smile at her. "Alice believes that we're having boys," she whispers with a soft smile.

I raise my brow at her. "Boys? As in, more than one? _Two?"_ My voice cracks on the last word. I look back to her belly and can't believe there can be two little ones in there.

"What does Alice think she's carrying?" I wonder if twins run somewhere in her family. _It certainly doesn't run in mine._

"She says, they're having a girl," she grins.

"Just one? But, we're having two," I still need clarification that I've heard correctly.

"Yes, they're expecting a girl and we can look forward to two boys." she teases me and then laughs in her low sultry way, which shakes her belly again and my eyes watch the movement—_fascinated_.

We're having twins. Our sons are growing right before my eyes. Just as I think this thought, two rounded spots appear and rise up on opposite sides of her belly. I sit up and place both my hands on the bumps. I'm not a doctor, but the shapes just feel too round and large to be hands or feet. I'm in awe, as I feel the push of the bumps into my palms. I gently rub the bump furthest away and it pushes up again into my palm. I lean over and gently kiss the spot as it rises again. My other palm gets bumped and I gently rub it as I smile. "Hey, you settle down now, you got some attention, you need to share," I whisper. I look up at my Bella, and her eyes are misty, shining with her love and happiness, clear as day for me to see.

I keep my eyes on her, as I lean down again and kiss the spot that's furthest away. "You both will have the most beautiful and loving mother a child could ever ask for. And a very proud and protective father who loves you both." I then kiss each spot again and they slowly move down.

I sit back up and then move up to cup Bella's face. "I love you so much, Isabella Marie Swan-Cullen."

"I love you too, so much," she whispers back and we gently kiss. Then she pulls back after a moment, looking both confused and curious. "Swan-Cullen?"

"Yes, Swan-Cullen. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. The Plantation was founded and for generations—worked by a Swan. I want to continue to honor that heritage. I want to honor Charlie and Renee. I don't want the Swan name to be forgotten. I would like all of our children to be Swan-Cullens, if it's agreeable with you," I murmur, watching her eyes to see her reaction.

I can tell she's mulling over the idea and then a little curl slowly emerges on her lips until it blossoms into a glorious, radiant smile. "Swan-Cullen," as she breathes out in pure delight.

"You like."

"Yes, I like, in fact, I love it, but I love you more," she whispers and seals it with a kiss.

H~~H

We're late when we reach the lobby to meet up with everyone. Luckily, so is everyone else. It seems we all needed longer than two hours. But everyone looks very relaxed and ready to take in the sights.

For the next day and a half, we explore the French Quarter. It's quite an exotic place, with street vendors who pull their wagons by hand, hawking their wares. Street musicians are practically on every corner, playing a wide range of music.

We explore an old apothecary shop. A Frenchman by the name of Antoine Peychaud was a Mason, and his group held their meetings in his establishment. He would serve them various mixed drinks that he created, which he called cocquetier. Then later the name was shortened to coctay, and, eventually was called the "cocktail."

The food is inexpensive. You can buy a 'poor-boy' sandwich, which is a half loaf of French bread, spread with mayonnaise, and packed with hot roast beef and fixings for the cost .25. In the lake front spots at West End, you could eat your fill of boiled shrimp, crabs or crawfish for pennies and wash them down with a penny soda or a nickel glass of beer.

We visit the French Market and Bella purchases various vegetable seeds to try in the family garden. We're all impressed with the lacy looking rod iron gates, fences, tables and chairs and the many captivating courtyards that sit beyond the fences. And the colors that surround the quarters, from the array of flowers, the green vines, the multicolored homes, buildings, tiles and the people. It reminds me of a living, breathing rainbow, constantly changing hues depending on the angle of the sun.

H~~H

Tonight we all dine together at Antoine's in a private dining room. The creole menu is extensive and incredibly delicious. We order extra appetizers, entrées and desserts, just to be able to taste the various flavors and textures. The service is outstanding and the chef even came in and introduced himself. We rave about the food and all the girls ask specific questions regarding ingredients so that they could recreate some of their favorite dishes. I think the Chef enjoyed speaking with the girls, so much so, that he spent over thirty minutes with them on his ingredients and recipes. Eventually, he had to return to the kitchen, but he let us take a menu, with his autograph boldly scrawled across the top.

After dinner, we walk to a bar, where a four-piece combo, the Rhythm Aires, is playing the best music in New Orleans, in my opinion. We're seated at three tables; Alice, Jasper, Bella and I at one. Rosalie, Emmett, Tanya and Seth are seated to the side of us. Leah, Sam, Daze and Embry are behind us. We're all having a great time with a little dancing added into the mix. I have my arm draped around Bella's chair and her shoulders when a flash of bright, red hair catches my attention.

I do a double take, and low and behold, it's none other than Victoria. I immediately stiffened and Bella can feel the tension. Her hand, that's resting on my thigh, gives me a little squeeze. I drop my gaze from Victoria and lean over to whisper in Bella's ear. "Victoria's here. The one I told you about, the one who drugged me and then stole your money. I can't believe she's actually here."

I feel her tense and I rub her shoulder soothingly. She looks up at me, her eyes conveying curiosity, anger and shock, as she mouths, "Where?"

"Tall redhead with a blue dress," I whisper back. I wonder if James is here. "I don't want to turn around. Do you see a tall blond haired man who might be keeping an eye on her?"

Bella wraps her arms around me, giving me a hug, as she rests her chin on my shoulder. After a few minutes, she releases me, looks up at me and smiles with a nod of her head. Bella then leans to her side, whispering to Alice, about what I can only assume is who I just recognized. Bella and Alice's conversation lasts about three minutes and I'm anxious to know what they're discussing and wondering if I should inform Sam and Embry. But the two of them are on the dance floor with Leah and Daze.

Bella finally turns around giving me her attention. She glances briefly over my shoulder and her eyes widen a bit. She quickly glances at me, taking my hand, while she stands, picking up her hat and gloves. I stand also, when she tugs at my hand, leading me on to the dance floor. We weave through the crowd until we're close to Sam. I jerk my head over to the opposite side of the bar to a recently vacated table. Bella takes hold of Daze's hand, for her to follow us, knowing Embry will too.

Once at the table, I quickly tell Sam and Embry about Victoria's location and that James is here also. We huddle in our little corner, trying to figure out what can be done in a crowded bar; from starting a brawl, to just following them until we can contact the police. The band isn't playing at the moment so the crowd on the dance floor has thinned.

We watch as Victoria has made her way to our original tables and is speaking with Seth, Emmett and Jasper. They all look relaxed and even the girls are smiling. We're trying to figure out what has them laughing at one point and the curiosity gets to us. The music starts up again and we return to discussing what they could be talking about. I can't go and find out, Victoria would surely recognize me and there's _no way_ Bella is going to go. Sam and Embry don't want to be seen yet because they want to observe or witness any actions that Victoria might make. Without saying a word, Daze pushes back from the table and in an instant she's winding her way through the throng on the dance floor.

Embry sighs and mumbles under his breath, "I swear, if anyone in our family of friends asks that woman to walk through the fiery pits of hell for them, she would do it." I have to agree. All of us would for any one of them.

We all watch her through the gaps of the ever changing tide of dancers as she's introduced to Victoria and then she's laughing with the rest them. She asks a few questions and then has a brief conversation with Alice. She smiles, then shakes her head, no, while collecting her things and saunters through the dancers back to our table.

She doesn't say anything right away when she returns. We continue to watch as Victoria seems to be introducing James to the group. He speaks for a few moments and everyone smiles and laughs. Then they all stand up and all proceed to walk out the door of the bar.

Daze informs us, "They're all going to a bar at 427 Bourbon Street, where the men are going to play some high stakes poker in a back room. Alice told me to tell you, "everything will be fine." and that we are not to show ourselves."

This irritates Sam, Embry and I to no end. Just as we're getting ready to ignore Alice's advice, two men stop at our table.

Sam and Embry's moods change at lightning quick speed as they recognize the two men. They're introduced as Felix and Demetri who are undercover officers of the New Orleans Police Department. Sam and Embry trained with them years ago in Georgia but they thought the area was too tame and ended up here. Sam explains how Victoria and James drugged and then robbed me. Both men know of them and their modus operandi. They couldn't believe they're arrogance of being in the area, knowing full well, there are warrants out for their arrests. Sam explains how our friends are about to engage in a poker game with James and the location of the bar.

Felix and Demetri are instantly intrigued to learn more about the pair, deciding that they need to make a visit. Felix lets it slip that the bar is also a known pick up joint for prostitution and promises to watch over our friends. They also agree with Alice that the rest of us shouldn't be seen there. It would potentially make James and Victoria nervous, if they know, that we know, who they are. Before they leave, they ask where we're staying, reiterating that they will watch over our family and friends, and insure their safe return.

Our mood to continue with our evening out has instantly lost its appeal. We all decide to return to our rooms to wait for the family. My mind is running the gamut of thoughts from my unpleasant welcoming to the States, courtesy of Victoria and James. My friendship with Jasper and all the planning we did to repay a debt. To the finding of the loves of our lives, the deaths of Charlie and Renee and the worry for my family right now.

Once we reach our room, Bella immediately takes off her shoes, gloves and hat. She wanders to the closet and removes her wrap style dress and hangs it up, leaving her wearing only her slip, undergarments and silk hose. I remain standing at the door, watching her movements as she glides to the bed, pulling back the blankets and fluffing the pillows. She turns and sits down on the bed, lying back on the pillow and swinging her legs up to stretch out on the bed. Her gaze turns to mine and she smiles softly. She's so beautiful and every day I grow more and more in love with her. It's then I have an epiphany and I feel thunderstruck.

Bella lifts her brows up at me, raises a hand out, beckoning me to come to her. And I do. Once I'm seated by her side, taking her hand in mine, she asks quietly, "What were you thinking about just now."

I take a moment to form my thoughts into words. I'm still reeling from my new found realization, while looking at our clasped hands. "It suddenly became clear to me, that I don't care if I ever get revenge on Victoria and James—or not. The monies have been repaid. Yes, it caused unbelievable stress and strain on my parents, me and everyone else. But it doesn't matter anymore."

I look into her beautiful soulful eyes that shine with so much understanding and devotion for me. "I have you, the love of my life, and little ones on the way. I have family and friends who mean the world to me. I have a home and the Plantation which brings me great solace and joy. I don't want for anything more than health, happiness and love."

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "It occurred to me, all I have to do is remember the Black's with their greed and need for petty revenge. It was like a festering wound. It was never cleansed and it never healed, it just ate away at them to their very bones. I don't _want _that. I don't _need_ that. I have everything I could ever want or need with what I have with you."

Bella takes a moment, thinking through my words and then voices her own thoughts. "I'm glad you feel this way. I would like to see justice done, so they never hurt or steal from anyone ever again. But your right, revenge is like a double edged sword. You might appease your wounded ego, but the price you pay, may be your soul," she wisely concedes.

She understands exactly what I mean and my last remaining desire to seek revenge fades into nothingness.


	29. Winners and Losers

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**I have the most incredible beta ever! Ficfangirl literally rescued this chapter. Her beta skills are amazing but her mind reading skill is astonishing. She straightened out my garbled words and truly made this perfect. Everyone should thank her! :)**

**I thank everyone who have given reviews, pm's, followers, story favorites, rec's and your time. A special thank you to QuinnLark. In her story, Caged Skylark she recommended H~~H. It's a great read. Check it out. **

**Today I want to thank the very first reviewer of this story. She has been a first time writer's dream come true with her humor, encouragement, thoughts and unknowing suggestions to plot lines. I created a character based on _my ideas_ of her and in this chapter she has a starring role. Thank you Daisy Grace, I hope I do you proud. **

**Chapter 28**

**Winners and Losers**

**Autumn 1935**

**Edward**

I hear Emmett's booming laughter, along with giggles and snickers in the hallway. Not wanting to wake Bella, as stealthily as possible I ease myself away from her and off the bed. I grab my robe from the foot of the bed and shrug it on, while heading for the door.

"I'm awake," she sighs in relief.

Neither of us could really sleep while so worried about our family. "Try to get some rest, my Bella. It sounds like they had a good time. I'll be back in a few minutes," I quietly murmur.

"No, I'll only stay awake longer waiting for you to tell me what happened," she tiredly answers, as she sits up and then angles her legs over the bed. I grab her robe from the foot of the bed, as I walk back to her and help her stand. She's beyond exhausted, but I'm not going to argue with her, knowing she'll do exactly what she said she would.

When I open the door, there standing in the hallway, are three exceedingly happy couples with smiles on their faces. Two other doors open to reveal Sam and Embry.

"Good, you're all awake," Emmett laughs merrily.

"It's kind of hard to sleep when there's loud, obnoxious laughter in the hallway," Sam teasingly retorts.

"But, it's better than banging on your doors to get you up," Emmett cheekily replies.

Sam busts up laughing, "I'll give you that."

Another door opens from the very end of the hall. A head pokes out cautiously, taking us all in.

"Why don't you all come in here," I suggest, not wanting to disturb the other guests.

Bella walks back to the bed and quickly makes it up. Then she settles herself against a pillow leaning against the headboard. Alice, after kicking her shoes off, joins her, sitting in the middle of the bed, while Jasper follows to sit behind her. Seth and Embry turn the overstuffed chairs by the fireplace towards the bed and take their seats, while Tanya and Daze get comfortable on their laps. We move the oversized davenport closer to the bed, where Emmett and Sam claim their spots, with Rosalie and Leah joining them. I turn back to the bed, climb on and pull Bella between my legs, where she relaxes against my chest.

I kiss Bella's head, wrapping my arms below her belly and look at Jasper, knowing he can tell a good tale. "So, tells us what happened?"

H~~H

**Jasper**

"First, let me start by saying, I'm really glad you weren't at the table when Victoria arrived. She has a very keen eye, as she sized us up, noticing our clothes, the girl's jewelry, etc. Alice had just finished giving us details about her, when not a minute later, she sidled up to our table. We were lucky that we were prepared for anything she might ask.

She casually questioned us on everything. She wanted to know everything about us. Were we traveling all together? Were we on vacation? How were we enjoying our stay? Where were we staying? She could tell that we weren't from the area. We informed her we had just arrived two days ago. She was curious about which restaurants we had enjoyed so far. We told her about Antonio's and she was impressed. She laughed when we told her about the Chef coming out and speaking to the girls. She said that doesn't happen often and we must have spent a pretty penny to warrant that kind of personal attention. She was subtly probing to see if we had money.

After a few more minutes of general pleasantries, she inquired if we were going to call it a night any time soon. We said we were open to suggestions. She spoke about a bar just a block or two away, where we could partake in a friendly game of cards." I tilt my head towards Emmett. "Emmett got all excited, wanting more details. That's when Daze came to the table.

Emmett, here says, 'I'm in. What do you think, honey? You want me to win you a mink coat?' I try to emulate Emmett's deep rumbling voice causing snickers from him.

Then I mimic Rosalie's womanly lilt. "'Oh, Emmett, really a mink coat! I want it, I want it now.' And she smiles, while batting her eyelashes and clapping her hands like a little girl, causing everyone to laugh."

"Huh, I never said I was an actress! And Emmett asks if I wanted a mink coat? Oh please, how absurd! Now, if he had thought to ask if I wanted a new washing machine, then I would have been very excited!" Rosalie sighs, with dreamy light in her eyes. We all laugh at her expression.

"We ask Daze if she wants to join us, but she declined and informed us all that she was meeting someone and would catch us later."

"That's when Victoria introduced us to James. He casually explained that, if we wanted to play, it was $100 per person to buy in. We all act excited, but believe me when I say we were all on guard. I don't think any of us weren't wondering if it was just a card game or something more sinister." Everyone nods their heads, agreeing with my comment.

"So, we follow James and Victoria out and down the street. We take note of the street signs and our location. The girls were actually pretty funny. They provided running commentary on landmarks along our way." I pitch my voice higher to mimic Tanya, Alice and Rose. "Oh, we're on Bourbon Street, we haven't explored this area yet. Look at this clothing store. We'll have to come back here during the daytime. Would you look at all those women hanging outside up there? What are they wearing? Is that the new style?" I laugh out loud remembering it.

"The bar, where the card game was played, is also a brothel," I smirk at Edward, whose brows are raised. Bella laughs lightly looking at Alice first, then Tanya and Rosalie.

"Yeah, it sure wasn't an ideal setting to find ourselves in. I was definitely overdressed," Rosalie snorts.

"I agree. The other 'ladies' were dressed appropriately though—for bed," Tanya chuckles.

"Yes, there were many ladies of the evening who weren't the least bit happy that we didn't leave our men alone or were worried we might steal their customers, who were giving us the once over, away from them," Alice titters causing the other girls to laugh out loud.

"Like any of us would have been interested in them or any of the men would attempt to take you from us," Seth laughs at her comment.

I hug Alice lightly. "I wasn't too happy with the ogling some of the men were giving the girls at all and glared at quite a few of them." Emmett and Seth nod their heads. They, too, had a few stare downs.

"So, we end up in a back room, where James took a seat which put his back to the wall at a corner table. I took a seat next to him with my back to the other wall. Emmett sat across from me, with Seth across from James, on my left. I'm watching James' eyes as he's making small talk with us about the places he and Victoria have traveled. He's covertly scanning the room. I casually scan the room and that's when I discover that it's a complete scam, a set up. There are mirrors strategically hung on the walls and ceiling so James can see our hands from any angle, but we can't see his cards."

"I laugh at some joke James relays, while I beckon Alice to me. When she comes over, I pull her down onto my lap and whisper in her ear, 'Mirrors on the walls for seeing our cards, get the girls to block them.' I kiss her on the cheek and ask, 'can you get us a drink, darlin'?' Alice giggles as she stands. I pull out my wallet and hand her some cash."

Alice jumps into Jasper's narrative. "I led the girls away from the table so I could fill them in on the problem with the mirrors with the drinks excuse. 'Ladies, I believe our men are thirsty. Care to come with me to get them something to drink?'"

I return to my tale and remember the events as they unfolded…

"Mighty fine looking women you all have there," James smiles, and his compliment seems sincere.

"That they are," I smile in agreement. "It's easy to find beautiful women when all you have to do is dangle your money in front of their eyes. Don't you agree gentlemen?" I nod to Emmett and Seth. They both start laughing at our private little joke.

"Yeah, first time Tanya met me, all she was interested in was my money and my land, but she came around to my winning ways," Seth snickers.

"So true. I stole Rosalie from a rich banker, showing her I had _so_ much more to offer," Emmett chuckles.

James laughs with us, not having a clue about the lies we just told, as he starts shuffling the cards.

"What would you gentlemen like to play? Five card draw, with or without wild cards, Texas Hold'em, or do you have a favorite?" James politely inquires.

"Five card draw is fine by me, just straight,' I answer as I look to Emmett and Seth, who both nod, while pulling out their wallets, counting their money and laying it on the table. Victoria comes over to each of us, including James, to exchange our cash for chips. Then she places the money in a plain black bag on a stool by the table.

The girls return just as we ante in for the first hand. They all position themselves to the sides of us, cutting off James' sightline to the mirrors. At first, he doesn't seem to mind. I watch him as he surreptitiously gauges our expressions and mannerisms during the first few hands, looking for our tell signs. We all try to keep our features blank, but Emmett's forehead furrows and Seth's breathing changes when they have a bad hand. After about twenty minutes or so, Emmett is the first to fold.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, honey, you'll get that mink coat anyway," Emmett promises. Rosalie bats her eyes at him, pretending to swoon.

Another gentleman takes Emmett's seat and introduces himself as Thomas. Emmett leaves to get Seth and me refreshments. Alice positions herself between James and me, while Rosalie moves to stand between Seth and me, with Tanya on Seth's far side.

This seems to frustrate James to no end. We've virtually cut off his use of the mirrors. At one point, he whispers in Victoria's ear and a few minutes later she tries to engage the girls in conversation away from the table. They don't leave though, saying how much they're enjoying watching the game, which only exasperates James further.

I notice that James' Adam's apple bobs when he has a poor hand and his pinkie finger twitches when his hand is good. Seth's tell when he has a good hand is to lower his eyelids to mere slits, but other than that, his face is expressionless. I try to keep my face devoid of any emotion.

By the time Thomas is out of the game, Seth and I are each up $245, with James down to $10. Another man named Richard joins in the game, and a second named Harry also pulls up a chair. With the next hand, James has to pay in another $100. Seth and I take Richard and Harry out, along with an additional $100 from James. Then a parade of high rollers drop in and out, and the wagers become bigger. James is into the pot by $1000 and Seth is on a losing streak. About an hour later, Seth is out of the game.

Three more men with money burning holes in their pockets take the empty seats. I can tell immediately that the next three will go down quickly. By the time they do, I'm up six grand. I can feel James becoming anxious as he once again digs into his wallet.

Finally, it's down to James and me. James is beyond frustrated as his eyes keep darting toward the mirrors, looking for any break in the coverage. I know he can't see my hand as I always have someone on either side of me.

James keeps pushing the pot higher and he takes a chunk of change from my winnings. His self-assurance is building and he's getting cocky. His arrogance is also making it easier to spot his tell signs. I let him win a few hands to boost his confidence.

Now we're on the final hand. We ante in and, after looking at his cards, James opens by putting the rest of his chips in, which totals around $3500. Then I see my chance. I have two aces or the makings of a royal flush with an ace and king of hearts. I decide to go for the royal flush and ask for three cards. James' little finger is twitching away so I know he has a strong hand. I'm dealt my three cards.

One by one, I place each card in my hand. First is a jack, then a ten and, finally, a queen, all in hearts. I become statue still, not moving a muscle, while James' little finger is beating out the rhythm of a bass drum. I call and raise him $500.

James once again digs into his pocket and counts out $1000 to raise the pot an additional $500. I not only match it, but raise it an additional $500 with my last remaining chips. James glares at me in a brief moment of annoyance and then nods. He pulls out a pocket watch. But this is no ordinary pocket watch. It's a 1914 Patek Philippe. A rare timepiece encased within an 18k yellow gold case with an invisible hinge. It has an inner gold cuvette, perpetual calendar, split-second hand, and chronograph with a minute repeater. Attached is a diamond encrusted fob, and I want it. _I want it bad!_

I squint at him, pretending I don't know the value of the watch. "Really, you think that little watch is worth $500?"

"I know this watch is worth at least a thousand!" James huffs out angrily. "It's very unique and well made. So, now I ask, are you in or are you out?"

His dare comes with a flicker of hope flashing in his eyes that I'll fold. I have no more cash on me. Alice gently rests her hand on my shoulder, then she opens her palm in front of me. I snap my head up and she tilts her head to the side, silently asking me to take it. It's her engagement ring. One large diamond surrounded by smaller dark blue sapphires that match her beautiful eyes. There is no way I'm touching her ring. She reads my eyes and smiles softly, reaching over and putting it in the pot, while eying James.

"I know this ring is worth the value of your watch, if not more," Alice nods at James.

Then she returns her gaze to mine. She quickly kisses my lips and whispers in my ear, "You've won." I know she's only speaking about the card game, but I also know I've won because she's mine, game or not. I hug her to me.

"It looks like I call… and raise you $500," I smirk at James.

James growls low. "Vickie, I need $500," he glares up at her.

"But that's my money, and…" Victoria starts to argue, but doesn't complete her sentence.

"NOW!" James shouts.

"He startles a few of the bar patrons and ladies of the evening. Everyone in our group can see his desperation building and we know his boiling point is coming to a head. Victoria huffs, but she opens up her hand bag and counts out $500. She sneers at James as she hands him the money.

"I call," James snarls, as he places the money in the pot. "What've you got?" He snaps.

"You sure you don't want to show first?" I grin. I'm just trying to be polite.

"No, I want to see your face when you lose that pretty little ring of your wife's. Show your hand," James gloats, with a confident smile.

"Fine, here you go. A royal flush," I smirk, laying down my cards as I watch James. His face rapidly drains of all color. "Beat that." I goad him.

"No, it can't be so. You can't have that." James mumbles in shock.

"Well, it sure looks like a royal flush to me," Seth states the obvious with a chuckle.

I immediately grab Alice's ring from the pile. I take her hand and plead, "Don't ever take this off again." I place the ring back on her finger and kiss it. Her smile is radiant, as she musses up my hair and quickly kisses me.

Emmett reaches over plucking up the cash and watch with fob from the table. James stands up abruptly, his hands gripping the table edges and flips over the table. It sends people and chips scattering everywhere, our drink glasses shattering as they hit the floor.

Victoria dashes for the black bag, but Rosalie is faster, snatching it up quickly and holding it to her chest. Tanya immediately positions herself in front of Rosalie, daring Victoria to make a move. Seth and Emmett join them. More of the patrons have come into the room hearing the commotion, as James starts cursing and accusing me of cheating.

One of the former players laughs at him, "How could he have cheated? You wouldn't let anyone else deal the cards." More laughter ensues from other patrons at James' expense.

James' face is red as he stands with his fists clenched, gnashing his teeth, glaring at me and then at Rosalie, who's still holding the bag in a death grip. Emmett removes the bag from Rosalie's tight grasp to take James' eyes off of her. James looks at Emmett, then around the room for a moment, as if calculating whether he can take the bag from him. Two patrons come and stand beside Emmett, silently letting James know—he doesn't stand a chance. Eventually, reason takes hold. He looks at Victoria and tilts his head towards the exit. Victoria glares at each one of us, then turns and walks away with James following closely behind her.

~H&H~

"Yeah, what a poor sport. He didn't even congratulate Jasper on his fine win." Emmett shakes his head with disgust, causing us all to laugh.

I look over at Embry and then to Sam, "We met a couple of friends of yours. Felix and Demetri were the two who came over at the end. They followed us back here, ensuring that we made it safely."

Sam smiles, "It's nice having friends who can look out for family. They're really great guys." Embry nods in agreement with the statement.

"That it is," I agree wholeheartedly. "They also suggested that we change hotels. We explained to them that we already have reservations for the Roosevelt tomorrow, or today, actually." I pull out my new pocket watch to check the time, smiling. "They want to meet up once we're settled in. They believe that James and Victoria will be in desperate need of money and may try their other scheme again, _soon_. They're curious if you want to help them with a little plan they've cooked up, if they're lucky enough to spot them. They have a favorite location here in New Orleans for acquiring their victims that they haven't used in a year. Now that Felix and Demetri know exactly what they look like, they obviously want James and Victoria caught as soon as possible. But, they would rather catch them red handed."

"You guys need to get some sleep before we make any more plans for James and Victoria. We'll talk to the manager, Mr. Spattafore, and see if we can't get you a later check out time," Embry suggests, looking at our tired eyes.

"That's a plan we can all agree to." I gaze at everyone in the room. "I never did thank you all for helping me win tonight. I would have been devastated if I lost Alice's ring."

"Think nothing of it. I'm sure the others wish they could have been there, too," Seth smiles at me and then looks at Edward, Sam and Embry, who are all nodding their heads.

"I think we should use the winnings to pay for this trip, courtesy of James and Victoria," Alice muses, while letting out a huge yawn.

"Agreed." Then I whisper in her ear, "Let's get you to bed."

"I think you should split it between the three of you, Jasper. It's only fair. The rest of us couldn't be there to help," Edward sighs in tired frustration.

"I like Alice's idea. But right now, I really like Embry's better. Let's all get some rest before the move tomorrow," I nudge Alice forward. After climbing off the bed, I reach down and pick her up. Everyone else moves furniture back into place and follows us out, as we all say good morning.

H~~H

**Daisy**

The Sazerac Bar is a sight to behold. Decorated with beautiful Art Deco style murals, a welcoming warmth from the woodwork surrounding the bar, dazzling lights, and the plush comfort of the open booth I'm sitting in, should be a sensory overload. I should be enjoying the atmosphere and the music, or gawking at all the glamorous celebrities who are hobnobbing with important politicians, right before my eyes. I should be swooning with delight having those aforementioned important and handsome men giving me sly winks and generous smiles. However, this is not the case. No, _far from it._

Over the last few months, I've learned the background stories of all the wonderful people with whom I'm currently traveling. I've learned how Jasper and Edward met, as if fate stepped in and lent them a guiding hand. Because of this fated friendship, I, Daisy Grace, found employment that is both rewarding and inspiring. I became friends, or more like family, with all and I hold them near and dear to my heart. I was also introduced to the love of my life, Embry.

Embry is so handsome, virile, and strong of character, mind and soul. I've endured watching the females of my species constantly turning their heads as we walk by. Some are bold enough to actually flirt outrageously with him—_with me present_. To tell the truth, the habitual barrage of attention he receives brings me equal amounts of pleasure and annoyance.

Now, I have to sit back and watch him pretend to be available in order to attract Victoria. I understand it's an undercover operation. I understand it's for a good cause. But, why couldn't Sam be the mark?

I glance across the table at Leah and Sam. They both burst out laughing, at what I can only assume is my look of malcontent. Leah looks gorgeous, her dark hair piled high with loose ringlets cascading down, framing her glowing face. She's wearing a beautiful cream color dress that compliments her tanned skin.

I have my hair pinned up, hiding one of my best features under my hat. I was told not to wear it down because Victoria might recognize me. My hair is light brown but not ordinary because it has natural blond highlights in a warm apricot direction with hints of red. Leah quickly sticks her tongue out at me, knowing full well where my thoughts reside.

Sam, handsome as always, is also well dressed. He's wearing a tailored black suit, which emphasizes his broad shoulders, with a black shirt and tie. He looks dangerously alluring. In a way that makes a woman's knees shake, and their eyes say, 'I would really like to get to know you, Mr. Big and Bad.'

"C'mon Daze, you know this is for a good cause. Don't you want us to capture two known criminals?" He cajoles, with laughter still ringing in his voice.

"I don't have a problem with the 'good cause.' I have a problem with using my Embry as the bait! Why couldn't it have been you?" I snip out through clenched teeth.

"Sam's never been able to flirt or make small talk with women he doesn't know, for the life of him." Leah smiles lovingly at Sam, who is no longer smiling.

"What do you mean, I've never been able to flirt?" Sam scowls.

"That look right there would be the closest look to flirting you have in your arsenal of charms." Leah teases and laughs at his pouting mouth. Sam's smile returns and grows, as he watches Leah laugh.

He turns his gaze back to me, "So there you have it. I don't have the easy going, cheerful disposition that makes Embry perfect for this," Sam concedes with a chuckle.

I have to smile at the two of them. They complement each other so well. My gaze wanders to Embry, handsomely dressed in a dark blue tailored suit, with a white shirt and dark blue tie, adding to his dark good looks. He's sitting at the bar alone, sipping a snifter of bourbon. He's been sitting there for the last hour, while I have had to watch a parade of women slither, sway or rub up against him. They try to engage him in conversation, but he always turns them away with a smile. He's waiting for bigger prey and won't even make eye contact with me, for fear he will give himself away. I'm not jealous, per se, more irritated because this is our vacation and I want to spend the time with him.

Not more than two minutes later, in walks the tall, stunning redhead. I nudge Sam's leg under the table to get his attention. He looks up at me, suddenly still as I tilt my head quickly towards the door. Sam doesn't react immediately. Instead, he downs his only drink of the evening, a shot of whiskey, stands up and heads to the bar. Leah moves over to my side of the table to get a better view. We lean our heads together, so no one can hear our conversation. Victoria is scanning the room. Sam is ordering another drink, standing close to Embry. This is the code they decided on. No words would be spoken other than the ordering of a drink. Embry, in the meantime, relaxes and leans back onto the bar for support, as his gaze surveys the room.

Leah whispers to me that she spots James, who has entered the bar from the opposite side of Victoria. He's also scanning the room. Sam slowly wanders back to our table and sets down a snifter of bourbon. He glances at the two of us and Leah darts her eyes towards James. A few minutes pass before Sam excuses himself again, after warning us not to move from the table, and walks to the men's room.

In the meantime, Victoria has meandered through the crowd to find the empty stool next to Embry. A light conversation ensues and I so want to know what's being said. The key part of the conversation is supposed to center around Embry, a wealthy business man, looking to invest in property here.

Five minutes later, Sam returns to the table with a slight nod, so both Leah and I know this means he's sure it's them. Leah finishes her Southern Style Ginger Ale and moves her glass in front of Sam. Sam empties his bourbon into her glass.

For another ten minutes, Embry and Victoria laugh with each other in easy camaraderie. Victoria eventually nods to an open table and must have asked if he wanted to join her. Embry agrees and, after he orders and is served a fresh drink, they both saunter over to the table, looking like they haven't a care in the world. I try really hard not to show my exasperation or follow their every move, since I would have to turn my head away from Leah and Sam. I unhappily settle for people watching.

After enduring another ten minutes of their bubbly chit chat, Embry excuses himself from the table. Leah quietly relays to Sam and me that, as soon as Embry left, James seated himself at the table. His back is to her so she can't see what he's doing, but Victoria's eyes are busy perusing the people close by.

All of a sudden, I start laughing. I can't help it. It's all so much like the plot in The Prisoner of Zenda with the poisoning of the prince. The difference though, is we know what's to be expected. Sam and Leah both look at me as if they're afraid the pressure is too much. I laugh lightly, shaking my head, no, to reassure them I'm fine.

Leah then informs us that James has left the table and Embry is walking back in. Embry sits down and reenters his conversation with Victoria. Sam leaves our table and heads to the bar, ordering another snifter of bourbon. Once he receives his order, he turns around abruptly and starts to sway unsteadily on his feet. Leah and I watch as he slightly staggers, as if he's suddenly decided he's going towards the restroom. He trips and crashes into the table where Embry and Victoria are sitting, chest first. Embry stands up immediately, blocking my view, while trying to talk to Sam, asking if he's alright. Leah immediately gets up and leaves our table. She walks directly to Sam and bends over between Victoria and Sam, with a hand rubbing Sam's back.

Over the crowd noise and music, I can barely make out her words. "Oh honey, I think you've had a little too much to drink tonight. Let's get you to bed and you'll feel so much better in the morning." She turns her head to Victoria, "I'm terribly sorry for this, he's a little upset right now; he's just learned his best friend is…"

Sam groans loudly. Leah looks mortified as she looks from Embry to Victoria. "I'm so sorry again, let me just get him out of your way. Let's go home, honey." Leah pulls Sam up, while Sam covertly picks up Embry's drink.

Embry sits down again and I hear him commenting to Leah. "Hey, it's not a big deal, we've all had bad days." He lifts his drink up to toast, as he smiles at Leah. Then he shrugs his shoulders at Victoria, takes a large swallow of his drink, laughing loudly, as she joins in.

Once Leah and Sam reach our table, I grab Leah's and my clutches and gloves. I step to the other side of Sam and help him out of the bar. We make our way to the elevator and as soon as the doors close behind us, Sam straightens up and wraps an arm around Leah. "You were perfect, honey," and quickly brushes his lips to hers.

"Did you do it?" I'm anxious to know, since were leaving Embry on his own.

"Do what?" Sam smirks at me.

"You know what I'm talking about Sam," I practically growl at him.

He laughs, hugs me lightly across my shoulders and holds up the drink to me. I sniff it but I can't tell if there's anything in it or not. As soon as we open the door to Sam and Leah's room, we're greeted with nervous and then relieved looks from our friends, now including Felix and Demetri. Sam gives a quick rundown to everyone while handing the snifter to Felix. Bella and Alice come to my side and give me a hug for comfort. They then lead me to the settee while each grasps one of my hands in reassurance.

Edward had explained that it didn't take long for the drug to take effect. So Demetri and Felix leave with Seth and Tanya for their room. Our room is in between Seth's and Sam's. Leah and Rosalie give me a quick hug and then follow them.

Edward and Jasper sit next to their wives, while Emmett sits in an overstuffed chair in front of the fire. Sam discards his coat and tie, throwing them onto the bed, then removes his cufflinks to roll up his sleeves. All of our rooms have connecting doors on both sides. Sam walks over to the connecting door to ensure the key is in place. The knob won't turn from the other side, as if it's locked on this side.

Now we wait, and wait and _wait_. I'm pacing the floor. I had taken the pins out of my hair and I've run my fingers through it so many times—I may now have bald patches. At least thirty minutes have come and gone. I know—I've been watching the clock. Right now I despise the phrase, 'a watched pot never boils.' My stomach is roiling from the stress of all this waiting.

Another seventeen minutes pass and then I hear his voice from the hall, right outside the door, on his way to our room and I sigh in relief.

"Thank you so much, Victoria, for helping me to my room. You're a life saver. You too, what was your name again… James." His words are slightly slurred as he mumbles, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

We vaguely hear the door open from next door as Sam and Edward move to the connecting door. Emmett and Jasper quietly leave the room, taking up their position in front of our door that leads into the hall. I hear the knob rattle a few moments later and I'm both shocked and surprised. Embry and Sam were right. They are professionals, ensuring they have their victim all to themselves.

Suddenly, you can hear drawers or closet doors slamming and Embry slurring out. "Hey, what're you doing? That's my stuff."

"Just relax, Embry. There's nothing you can do. Just lay back down and you don't need to get hurt," Victoria cajoles.

"What, you're in on this, Victoria? Is this some sort of a game to you, a set up?" Embry sounds so tired and dismayed.

Embry must have gotten up again, because we hear a scuffle, a thud and then a loud groan. I'm ready to bust the door down, but Bella and Alice hold me back. I'm taller than Bella, by a good four inches at least, but they're both very strong.

A scuffle is heard again. This time I hear a slap and another thud that could have been a punch, followed by a low groan from Embry. Then we hear the word, "Help," it's barely audible as if he's on his last breath. I freeze.

Sam turns the key, then the knob, opens the door and rushes in with Edward close behind. Shouting can be heard from Sam, Felix, Demetri and Emmett. I run for the door with Bella and Alice following.

Inside the room, Felix and Demetri are wrestling with James, trying to put restraints around his wrists, with Seth and Edward blocking his escape route, ready to pounce. Victoria is by the door, holding the bag of money we used as bait, with Emmett and Jasper holding her by her arms as she struggles. She's trying to use her low wide heels as a weapon to step on their shoes, so Emmett and Jasper keep shuffling their feet. Sam is helping Embry up. He looks as if he took a few punches on the chin, but what stands out is the vivid pink hand print.

I see red. Embry looks at me and smiles, letting me know that he's fine. But I'm not. It's one thing for men to fight, but for a woman to hit my man… when men are taught never to hit a woman. It's unacceptable! My eyes swing to the struggling Victoria and Embry must have read my intent.

"Uh, Daze, I don't think you want to do that. It would be considered assault," he explains trying get to me before I can do any harm. As I stand before her, she lashes out with her foot and kicks me in the shin with the pointy toe of her shoe. I yelp from the impact and then turn a cocked brow to Embry. He raises his hands in surrender and that's all I need.

First, I return the kick to the shin with maybe a little too much force. I don't know though, I'm not a physicist. It did, however, sweep her leg out from under her, so it's a good thing Emmett and Jasper were holding onto her. She struggles to get back her footing, so I take this as my opportunity to swing my arm, in a wide graceful arc. My hand lands with a resounding smack, which reverberates around the room. I slap her overly rouged cheek, never leaving it, as her head snaps sideways with the force.

My arms are suddenly pinned as Embry embraces me from behind. "That's for leaving a mark on my boyfriend. No one marks him—_but me!"_ I grit out, frustrated I can't release more of my anger on her.

Embry chuckles, kisses my cheek and then softly remakes, "Daze—that might have been a little too much information."

When his meaning penetrates the red haze of my rage, I look at Jasper and Emmett, who are grinning at me with knowing smirks. I blush profusely, but then grin back and wink. This makes them laugh out loud. I turn around in Embry's arms and put my hands gently to his face, to see that he is really okay. He has a few bruises, but other than that, he looks well.

My inspection is interrupted by Edward's low voice. "James, I nearly forgot to return the favor of what you once bestowed upon me. Forgive me for my lapse of memory." He first punches James in the jaw—hard, and James' head snaps back. He then punches him in the stomach and James tries to double over, but he's being held up by Felix and Demetri. Finally, Edward offers a magnificent uppercut and James falls awkwardly to his knees, his hands restrained behind him and hangs his head.

Seth looks from James to Edward. "That's it? That's all he gave you?"

"I was drugged, Seth. If I wasn't, you know I could have taken him," Edward shakes his head in amusement at Seth.

"Yeah, I'm sure you could have," Seth snickers, while slapping Edward on the back.

Emmett and Jasper walk Victoria over to Felix and he puts restraints on her wrists.

Demetri looks at Sam. "I can't believe we finally caught these two. Here in New Orleans, we have four open cases alone that we'll be able to close, thanks to all of you. Who knows how many other states will want to prosecute them."

"Do you think we'll be required to testify?" Sam questions. Before Demetri can answer, we hear Felix.

"Well, what do we have here?" We all turn to Felix. In his hand, he's holding up two small brown vials.

"It's probably the drug they placed in the drinks of their victims. I bet if you send my drink to the FBI lab, you'll find the same thing in it," Embry suggests.

"We'll do that. I don't want these two getting out on a technicality. As far as you two testifying, or for that matter you, too, Edward, seeing as you all live in Georgia, I think a written statement will suffice for the courts," Demetri answers. Then he grins at Sam and Embry, "Especially, considering both of you were or still are with the police force. That will carry a lot of weight."

Felix rings the front desk and asks them to send up the other officers waiting downstairs. Three minutes later, two others arrive to help escort James and Victoria to their new place of residence.

As they're leaving, Tanya cheekily says, "By the way, next time you talk to your cousin Aro, tell him Tanya Denali said hi."

James stops and immediately looks at her. Recognition of the name flashes through his eyes. "That might be hard to do, since your parents practically beat him to death and he's been in a coma for three months," James sneers at her.

At first Tanya is stunned, as is everyone in the room. Then she starts laughing, "Serves him right. I just wish I could have done it."

Before James can reply, he's yanked out of the room. Seth pulls a still chuckling Tanya into his arms.

Eventually, handshakes and last minutes instructions are given for the witnesses of the crime and finally our room is cleared of Victoria.

H~~H

Because it's late, the five other couples all say good night and head to their rooms. I look around at the mess. Clothes are tossed everywhere, some still on hangers from the closet. As I start to straighten up, Embry stops me by taking his shirt out of my hand. He looks at me and tilts his head. "Come with me," he quietly demands.

His eyes are so serious suddenly. I start to ask him what's wrong, but he places a finger on my lips and shushes me. He tugs my hand gently and I follow him out of our room and to the elevator. Once inside he pushes the button for the roof top platform. When we arrive, it's dark but also light with the millions of stars sparkling above us.

He guides me to a table, which is set with an open bottle of Champagne and two filled glasses. He pulls out a chair for me, so I sit. It's so sweet that he would think to do something special, knowing I was so worried about tonight.

He lifts his glass and waits until I raise mine. "I know what you're thinking." I tilt my head, ready to ask if he's telepathic, but he shushes me.

"You think this is all about what happened tonight, but you're wrong." Now, I'm thoroughly confused, because he's right. "I had this whole evening planned out a month ago. I asked everyone if they wouldn't mind switching hotels during our stay because I had heard about the beautiful view up here and wanted to see you in this setting." He smiles gently and I smile because his thoughtfulness is so endearing. I start to thank him, but again, he shushes me.

His warm eyes stare into mine as he takes a drink of his champagne and I do the same. When I tilt the glass to my lips I hear a clink. Surprised something would be in the glass, I lift it higher into the starlit night and notice what looks like a golden band. Wait,_ is that a diamond? _My eyes fly to Embry's.

"I had our night all planned. We would have had a romantic, candlelight dinner with just the two of us. Then, we would have casually found our way up here with the champagne already waiting on the table. You would have been so pleased," He sighs. I reach across the table taking his hand, squeezing it lightly. He planned all this for me and he's upset that his plans were ruined. I start to tell him the evening is not wasted, but he shushes me, _again._

He brings my hand to his lips and kisses each knuckle and then turns it over and places a kiss on my palm. I always react to his touch with waves of desire rolling through my body. He stands up, holding my eyes and my hand.

"I didn't like how you called me your boyfriend to Victoria. I want a different title." He's now standing in front of me and then bends down on one knee. "I love you Daisy Grace. I think I loved you at first sight. You're beautiful, intelligent, and witty." He smiles gently up at me. And I fall in love with him all over again. He can read it all in my eyes.

Then he softly speaks again, "I want the privilege to be known by the title of your husband. I want to be able to call you my wife. I want to know the joys of the title of father that comes with our children. I want the titles as they get older with children of their own and all the endearments from you in between. I want everyone to know that you're mine and I'm yours. Will you give me those names? Will you marry me, Daisy Grace? Will you honor me by becoming Daisy Call?"

My heart is beating wildly and my breathing is shallow and rapid. I can't believe he planned all of this. He's looking at me with so much love that I can't speak. I can only nod my head, yes, as joyful tears start to flow down my cheeks.

He reaches for the glass of champagne and brings it to my lips and I sip it. He then drinks the rest and pulls the ring out of the glass with his teeth. He sets down the glass and rubs the ring quickly on his trousers. Then he places it on my finger and it feels so right, warm and perfect. "My fiancée," he whispers, as he kisses the ring. "Soon to be my wife," he murmurs, and then adds those magical words, "I love you, Daze."

I can no longer be shushed as I softly vow, "I love you. My fiancé. My husband to be. My forever and always. My Embry." He kisses me then and I know heaven.


	30. Everlasting Heirs and Heirlooms

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No disrespect is intended if I just tweak things a bit.**

**I have the most incredible pre-reader, suggestion maker and beta ever! Ficfangirl's skills are amazing but her mind reading skill is astonishing. I still stand by this! She truly made this a perfect ending. I will never be able to thank her enough. Thank you again, ficfangirl! Also, I added little bits here and there, so if there are any errors, they're mine.**

**A special thank you to QuinnLark. In her story, Caged Skylark, she recommended H~~H. It's a really great story. Check it out. **

******I thank everyone who has given reviews, pm's, followers, story favorites, rec's and your time. For a first time writer, you have all been so generous in your encouragement and kindness. I'm so thrilled that you gave this story a chance. Thank you all so much! **

******I just received a beautiful banner made by lellabeth. It's perfect. You can see it on the blog for pictures. Thank you lellabeth, so much!**

**Epilogue**

**December 1935**

**Edward**

It's been a month since we returned from our trip to New Orleans. Felix and Demetri keep us apprised of the investigation. True to their word, none of us will have to return as witnesses for the trial of James and Victoria De Sade. Their crime spree started almost a decade ago. Men are coming out of the woodwork to testify against them. There were dozens of victims who never reported their encounter with James and Victoria, primarily due to embarrassment. Once they realized how many others there were, they came forward to press charges. There are currently forty six men willing to testify about their ordeals. The victims are from as far west as Texas, across to Georgia in the east and as far south as the tip of Florida. We did find out that the liquid in the vials was chloral hydrate. In small doses it's used to relax a person with anxiety issues. _I know first-hand the effects of a larger dose._

H~~H

Emmett and I have been busy plowing under the spent cotton plants. I'm continually amazed by its remarkable properties. The most important is the fiber or lint, which is used in making cloth. Linters is the short fuzz on and from the seed of cotton. Linters are incorporated into high quality paper products and processed into batting for padding mattresses, furniture and automobile cushions.

Obviously, the seeds are the basis for the next year's growing season. Excess seeds can be crushed for cooking, salad oils and shortening. There is one brand of shortening, called Crisco, which is made solely from cottonseed oil. If the husk is removed, the meal of the seed can be ground down and used in breads and cereals. Left whole, seeds can be used for feeding livestock, poultry and fish, or returned to the soil as fertilizer. The leaves and stock, when plowed under, help nourish and replenish the soil. There's not a part of this plant, when all is said and done, that is wasted.

When we're not in the fields, we're busy maintaining the farm equipment in preparation for the coming planting season. Or you can find us working on the vehicles, updating the plumbing and electrical fixtures in our homes, smoke house or well. There's always something that needs attention and I'm thrilled to be able to use my hands and head, while honing my new found skills.

We completed the refurbishment of the Carriage House. Emmett and Rosalie are enjoying their new home. The first floor has a master bedroom with and en suite bath and sitting room. There are two more bedrooms, a parlor, a small dining room and kitchen. On the backside is a mud room with Rosalie's new washing machine. Yes, Emmett secretly ordered a new one from the Sears catalog, picked it up at the train depot, and installed it without her knowing a thing. You would have thought he gifted her with a diamond mine the way she went on and on about it. The upper floor is currently used for storage, but can easily be expanded to add more rooms if needed. Who knows, they just might, since we were recently informed that they, too, are expecting, in the summertime.

We also enlarged the Foreman's cottage that can be used for either visitors or maybe my parents, if they decide they could do with some privacy once the little ones arrive.

We are turning one of the barns into a cook's station and dining hall for next year's workers. Emmett and I decided one day, without consulting with Bella and Rosalie, I might add, that the cooking for the hired hands would be done away from the house. We were trying to help ease the burden for Bella and Rosalie of those daily chores. Both Bree and Laurent were on board with our plan. Bella and Rosalie… _not so much_.

It was our first argument. Bella finally relented with the stipulation that, until she knew how well she would handle motherhood, she would bow to my underhanded ways. She actually tried to bow, but her baby belly wouldn't let her. I started laughing at her situation. She gave me what Rosalie calls her 'bitch brow' and I tried to stop the chuckles, but I couldn't, it was too funny. Eventually, a small smile curled around the corners of her lips and then she lowered her eyelids in that sensual, sultry way of hers and I stopped laughing–_instantly_. I worshipped her and made it up to her for my laughing and underhanded ways. A very satisfying end to our first argument. _Very satisfying, indeed._

H~~H

Bella has been busy reorganizing the household. After many conversations with Alice, she conceded and decided to move into the master suite. Alice pointed out that the overseers of the Plantation have always resided there and the room should be utilized by a Swan-Cullen. I agreed with her for tradition's sake, as it is part of her heritage. Charlie and Renee would be happy to know that a Swan lives and loves within those walls.

Bella turned the guest room next to the master suite into a nursery for our expected additions. The hardwood floors were sanded down and polished to their original light oak finish. In the middle of the floor she placed a throw rug that featured a baby Mickey Mouse on a see-saw with two lovely bunnies. She became obsessed with the Disney theme. The walls are painted in a light blue and decorated with framed prints of brightly colored animated scenes of baby Disney characters. I have to admit, they are cute. From the cellar she brought up her bassinette, crib, a hand carved wooden cradle and a rocking chair.

Alice and Jasper are decorating their nursery with a nursery rhyme theme, and she, too, brought her crib, cradle and bassinette to their home.

One night, during a dinner conversation, Jasper was bit solemn about not having any of his personal childhood belongings or his family during this joyous time. It was the first time he revealed information about his early years and his parents.

H~~H

Both his parents came from well-to-do homes. His father had inherited his family's fortunes at an early age and his mother gained hers during the first year of their marriage. Jasper was born one year later. By the time he was five, the idea of playing house no longer appealed to them. It wasn't that they didn't love him, they did! They were just bohemian in nature, with a craving for travel and adventure. They sought excitement, while habitually leaving Jasper to his own devices from the time he was about 8 years old. While they searched for gold in the foothills of the Sierras in California, Jasper read about the history of the forty-niners or how the town of Paradise got its name. They mined for silver in Nevada, while Jasper read about the rise and fall of towns like Bodie and Silver City.

They spent a year hunting for the Lost Dutchman's gold mine in the Superstition Mountains of Arizona. This led Jasper to read about myths and legends such as King Midas and the Lost City of Gold.

Next, they went digging for diamonds in Arkansas and hit pay dirt. The sale of the diamonds, fueled their desire to search for sunken treasure off the coast of Texas, in the waters off Padre Island. So Jasper read about ships from all over the world, bearing treasure troves of gold, silver and ancient relics.

Near Padre Island, Spanish galleons ran aground or sank in waters off the coast. Spanish coins, even silver bars, had been found in the sand. At one time, Padre Island was called Money Hill for all the treasures found. However, it was there, diving in the waters, not paying attention to the surges and swells of the tides that his parents drowned.

Jasper, fifteen at the time, was very disciplined and dedicated to his education. His parents' lust for treasures fueled his desire to learn everything he could about artifacts found in museums and private collections. He worked his way through college until he lost his job and hopes due to the Great Depression.

"So you were homeless when your family died. No one you could turn to, no friends?" Emmett asked, astonished at Jasper's fortitude.

"Not really. I had a few friends but their parents had issues with the fact that I was mostly left alone growing up. They worried that their kids would become wild if they spent time with me," Jasper chuckles, remembering his younger years.

"My best friend at the time was Antonio Houston. His mom was from San Antonio and his dad from Houston. He got into some trouble when he was 17. Drinking, being belligerent, starting fights, not going home, etc. His parents immediately blamed me and my bad influence on him for his troubles. One day, he and his mother came to my little apartment. She raged at me for my evil doings and corrupting her son. And my _friend_ didn't defend me. Funny thing was, I never did any of those things. That's when I decided to leave Texas." He shakes his head, momentarily lost in the past. "So much for a long term friendship, huh?" Jasper tries to laugh off the ache that still resides in his heart.

"You want to know what I've learned about friendship? Friendship isn't about the length of time you've known someone. It's about those who came and never left your side." I smile at Jasper, "I learned that from you. From the day we met, you've always stood by me." Jasper's smile is once again genuine as he tilts his head in gratitude.

I look around the table at the faces of those I call my family. I honestly don't think of them as friends anymore. I pick up my glass and raise it to acknowledge all those present. "To all of you. Thank you."

Smiles abound, glasses are raised and clinked together with several, 'Here Here's and cheers.'

Of course, then there's Emmett, who remarks, "Ah, I feel so warm and fuzzy inside." He instantly backs away from Rosalie, only to have Alice retaliate, by bopping him on the back side of his head. Emmett rubs the spot, while glaring at Alice.

Rosalie huffs, "No dessert for you." Emmett's eyes bulge out at Rosalie's comment. This has everyone at the table laughing hysterically.

H~~H

**December 15, 1935**

Christmas is on its way and, as I'm walking out the front door to meet up with Emmett and work on one of Bella's presents, I'm treated to an interesting sight. Three trucks slowly make their way up the drive to the front veranda. When the first truck stops, I immediately recognize the driver, it's a déjà vu moment. As I make my way down the steps to greet them, my mom jumps out of the passenger side and runs into my open arms.

This time is pleasingly different. No tears of relief or stress on her features. Her eyes reflect only pure happiness to be welcomed back home. My dad helps Mrs. Cope down from the truck and she too smiles as she arrives for a welcome home hug. Then the front door is opened as Bella, Alice and Rosalie come out to welcome the missing part of our family. When my mom and Mrs. Cope see the ever growing roundness of Bella's and Alice's tummies they shed a few tears of joy that all is well with them. When Rosalie tells them of her impending addition to the fold, she is hugged again in congratulations with more happy tears.

I walk up to my smiling dad for a quick welcome home man hug, and tilt my head towards the trucks.

Just as he's about to explain, Bella waddles up to him with her gorgeous smile on high, "Papa C, we missed you so much. Welcome home."

He smiles as bends to hug her, "I missed you too, Bella. It's good to be…" He pulls back suddenly and places his hands on her very large belly. "Did you just kick me?" he asks, with a comical grin on his features. Her stomach moves about under his hands. Bella is in the habit of clasping her hands under her belly and laughs at my dad's expression, while it shakes.

"I think they wanted to hug you too, but can't quite reach," Bella snickers.

"They? As in more than one? As in two?" my dad sputters. Bella stares at my dad for a moment and then looks at me. She starts giggling and I now know I am definitely my father's son. I grin, shrug my shoulders, and walk to stand behind her, helping to hold her belly still, while she silently laughs at us.

"Esme, did you know that Bella and Edward were expecting twins?" My dad is still in obvious shock.

"Yes, dear. Alice told Melissa and me before we left. I thought I mentioned it to you." My mom titters and I think she purposely didn't tell him so she could see the look of surprise that is plastered on his face. It is pretty funny and I know I must have had that same expression.

Emmett came in from working at the new cook's station, just as Seth, Tanya, Leah and Sam arrived by truck. Embry and Daisy ride in with Jasper from the Whitlocks' home. Even Laurent and Bree come out. I have a feeling Alice made the calls. She loves the telephone. It had recently been installed here on the Plantation, on the Clearwaters' Plantation and the Swan-Whitlock Plantationette as Alice calls it.

Jasper tried to argue with her that it wasn't a word.

Alice rolled her eyes as she patiently explained, "The suffix _ette_ means smaller. Our land grows cotton as does the Plantation. We're a little Plantation. Hence, Plantationette ."

No one could or dared to argue against her logic, so that was the end of that. The Swan-Whitlock Plantationette is now what it's known by.

Telephones in rural areas are hard to come by. Lines stretch for miles on end just so we can have this luxury. Alice enjoyed researching bits of information on them. She would blurt out little tidbits such as, "Did you know the first operators needed to have good memories to know which people went with which plugs?" Or how in the 1880's in Lowell, Massachusetts, there was a measles epidemic. The doctors were worried that if all the operators got the measles, then nobody would be able to control the telephone operating system. A doctor suggested that rather than relying on operators' memories, each person should be assigned a number. This is how the telephone number came into play. My favorite, however, was the story of a farmer in Gratiot, Wisconsin in the 1900s. He took apart his telephone to see how it worked. When the carbon in the phone spilled out, he figured he could replace it with gunpowder. The instant he tried to call someone, the telephone blew up! The farmer wasn't harmed, but he learned a huge lesson: _telephones don't make good guns._

Once everyone had welcomed back my parents and Mrs. Cope, we all turned to one of the gentlemen who cleared his throat. I think we were an intimidating group to the three men. The gentleman cleared his throat again and asked, "Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, where we should unload your belongings? We would like to get back before dark. If that's okay?"

My dad and mom turned to Bella and me. Bella then cleared her throat. "I hope you don't mind, but Edward and I moved into your room. I put all of the things you left in the downstairs guest room."

I hug her close. I know she felt uncomfortable moving my parents' personal things, but it needed to be done.

"So you have a choice. Bella worked really hard to get the downstairs room ready, or you can take a look at what Emmett and I did with the Foreman's cottage. It's really nice and would give you privacy," I suggest, hoping to relieve Bella's discomfort.

My parents were curious about the cottage, so we all walked over to it. We had taken most of the furniture out. It was very old and not in the best condition. So we moved it to a storage shed. Upon entry there is an open sitting room, with a large fireplace on the right. Behind the sitting room is a dining area and fully equipped kitchen. A bathroom is off the dining area. To the left and down the hall from the sitting room are two large bedrooms. Both rooms have bay windows with built-in seats under them and fireplaces. One bedroom had an en suite bathroom with cream color tile on the floor and halfway up the wall. It also had a large claw foot tub next to a smaller bay window that looked into an enclosed little flower garden area.

"Oh my, it's gorgeous. It's quite comfy and cozy, isn't it?" Esme gasps.

"Emmett and I did the work ourselves. No guarantees on how well it will withstand the test of time," I laugh. Emmett snorts. "But we figured we could always use it for guests if you would still like to live in the house."

"The decision is completely up to you. Edward said your home in England is quite grand compared to ours, so this might feel a little too closed in for you," Bella quietly offers.

"The home in England is large, but you know, I like the feel of this cottage. It's very light and airy. And even with everyone standing in here, there is still room to spare. I like it quite a bit. What about you Esme?" My dad is letting the final decision be hers.

"I really like it. All of our belongings would fit quite nicely, I think. We're just across the drive from the house, and yet can feel like we're in our own little world when we're here." She has a contented look on her features as she looks at Carlisle.

Carlisle walks up and embraces her. With a quick kiss on her lips he says, "We're really home."

H~~H

It didn't take long to unload the trucks with so many volunteers helping. Trying to keep Bella and Alice from helping was a whole other issue. My mom, seeing Jasper's and my frustration when we caught them carrying in a heavy coffee table, set Bella, Alice and Rosalie to unpacking and hanging their clothes, shoes and other garments in the closet or folding them into the highboy dressers that they brought. The men set up their bed with mattress. Between the movers and us, the divan and chairs that used to be in my parents' favorite room in England, are now in the sitting room. They brought lamps and Pembroke tables with matching chairs and settee for their bedroom. These items were irreplaceable to them and they couldn't bear to see them covered up and not used. Within hours, the cottage was completely furnished and did truly feel like a miniature of their home.

My parents had also been busy dealing with their business assets. They sold off all their properties, except for the home of my birth in Kensington Palace Gardens. With whispers of the possibility of war with Germany running rampant in the United Kingdom, they sold the mill in Scotland. The shipyard was sold to the Royal Naval for retrofitting their fleet. If war is in our midst, Carlisle wouldn't take the chance of our merchant ships being seized by the government and put into service or pillaged and burned by the enemy. He wouldn't risk the lives of his crew in that fashion. Carlisle retained his flagship, the Savior, with many of the crew, including his captain, packing up their families and belongings to make their home in the States. Many of them grew up on farms and were interested in either working here or pooling their monies together to create a co-op farm, in which they all would work together.

My parents brought some of my baby furniture to add to the nursery. Bella was thrilled and thanked them profusely. They also brought photograph albums chronicling my birth to right before I came to these shores the second time.

One picture in particular caught Bella's eye as she gasped and put a hand to cover her mouth. It's a profile shot of me, at three years old. I have a hand on my hip, staring into the fields of cotton, with a look of contentment in my eyes and a calm smile of wellbeing on my features. It's probably the earliest of my memories as a child, but I remember it well. I had just slayed the evil dragon and protected the cotton from his fiery breathe. I remember thinking that I wasn't going to let him ruin my kingdom, as I thought of the Plantation back then. It's as if, even at the young age of three, I knew this is where I always wanted to be.

Alice, glancing at the picture, looks from Bella to me and back to Bella. She grins as she stands up from the settee and walks into the library. She calls for Jasper's help. A few minutes later she returns and puts a photograph album on my lap, open to a picture of my Bella. She's wearing a white bonnet, white dress and stockings with black boots. It's a reverse side profile. She too has one hand on her hip staring out into the cotton fields with a gentle smile and an utterly satisfied gleam in her eyes. The only difference between the two pictures is you can tell Bella wiped her dirty hands on her white dress and there is a smudge of dirt on her cheek. It's so adorable and so Bella.

"We have got to get these enlarged and framed together," my mom exclaims staring in wonderment at the two pictures.

H~~H

We're all sitting at the dining table after a wonderful dinner. Mrs. Cope is gushing about her time in England with my parents. It's fun to hear her opinions and perspectives of her time in London. It's such a different environment than it is here in Savannah.

Over the conversation, I hear the sound of a vehicle coming up the drive. I squeeze Bella's hand, letting her know that I would see who's arrived. I've already reached the door when I hear two car doors close. I open the front door, stepping out and I'm surprised to see Carmen and Eleazar Denali, dressed to the nines, standing by their car, gazing back at me.

"Mr. and Mrs. Denali, what a surprise to see you," I greet them politely. Then I realize that they had to have arrived with my parents. But, why didn't they say anything?

They look up at me with wary smiles, taking in my white work shirt, jeans and boots. "Edward, it's good to see you. How are you?" Mr. Denali inquires nervously. Mrs. Denali nods up at me.

"I'm good. Very good. Thank you. Would you like to come in?" I'm bewildered by their hesitancy. Surely my parents have told them I'm married and that my Bella is to make them grandparents soon. I hear a noise behind me and turn to see Bella in the doorway, her hands clasped under her belly.

"Edward, is everything okay?" she asks. I can't help but smile when I see her.

"Everything's fine, my Bella. We have visitors." I hold out my hand, which Bella takes and I pull her in front of me. I love wrapping my arms around her and putting my hands on her belly. "Bella, I would like to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Denali, Tanya's parents." Then I look back at the Denalis. "Mr. and Mrs. Denali, this is Isabella Swan-Cullen. Bella, my wife."

"Bella, it's wonderful to meet you. We've heard so much about you," Mr. Denali smiles gently. Mrs. Denali nods again, still not speaking a word.

"Thank you, Mr. Denali. Won't you please come in? I can only imagine that you must be most anxious to see Tanya. I'm sure that she'll be very pleasantly surprised.

"She's here? She will?" This was from Mrs. Denali.

"Of course she will. Come on in," Bella softly replies and Mrs. Denali looks like she's beginning to relax.

Bella and I walk into the house as Mr. and Mrs. Denali come up the steps. We wait at the door and Bella asks to take their coats and hats. We can hear everyone laughing at the table and Mr. and Mrs. Denali smile genuinely when they hear Tanya's laughter.

Bella surprises me when she asks, "Would you like to meet everyone at once or would you like some private time with Tanya?" It's as if she can tell that their hesitancy has to do with Tanya and her reactions to their presence. Mrs. Denali's expression is so relieved at Bella's offer that I begin to understand. They're worried that Tanya won't want them here. But I don't understand why.

"If you could ask Tanya if we might have a moment of her time, we would be extremely grateful," Mr. Denali requests.

"Certainly, Mr. Denali. Let me show you to the library. Can I get you anything to drink?" Bella graciously offers, while leading them to the library door.

"No, thank you, dear," Mrs. Denali is finally relaxing more.

"Edward, while I get Tanya, would you please start the fire and make our guests comfortable?" Bella suggests while opening the library door and ushering our guests in. The room has a slight chill. Alice was in here earlier in the day, so there were coals that would easily light the kindling. Before Bella leaves, I gently place a kiss her lips. It's important to me to show the Denalis that any idea that I may still be available is completely wrong. I don't doubt Tanya's love for Seth. I just remember how adamant the Denalis were about me being the 'perfect match' for their daughter.

Bella smiles up at me and cups her small hand on my jaw, lightly rubbing the stubble. She knows what I'm doing and is very pleased that I'm laying claim to only her. It makes me love her all the more for not calling me out on my possessiveness.

Once Bella leaves, I turn to get the fire going. Mr. Denali has already started adding the kindling to the coals. Mrs. Denali is looking at me with a happy smile.

"Your Bella is very lovely. Your parents honestly couldn't stop talking about the life you've created here in the States. How enthralled you are with Bella. They love her too and constantly spoke about how wonderful everyone is here on your Plantation. We're very happy for you, Edward," Mrs. Denali sighs.

"Thank you, my Bella is perfect, and all those that surround me have enriched my life beyond the life I had in England. I think you'll find the same holds true for Tanya," I reply, just as the door opens to reveal Tanya with Seth behind her.

"Mom? Dad? You're here!" Tanya's features move from shock and surprise to joy as she runs to embrace her mother. Her father stands up from the fireplace to join his wife and daughter.

Seth is standing by the door, looking a little lost, with a 'should I stay or should I go' expression. I walk up to him and, before I leave the room, I put my hand on his shoulder, pat it a few times and offer, "Good luck."

His gaze snaps to me and he quietly questions, "Do I need it?"

"When meeting the parents, you always need it," I respond, smirking as I watch his face drain of color.

"Mom, Dad, I want to introduce you to Seth Clearwater, my fiancé." Tanya happily holds out her hand to Seth and I close the door.

While Tanya, Seth and Mr. and Mrs. Denali reunite, my parents tell us an interesting story.

Tanya's parents learned, quite by accident, about her secret endeavor. A month after Tanya left for the States, Mr. and Mrs. Denali were attending a fund raiser for a hospital expansion. They started a conversation with a new doctor at the hospital. He spoke about a young woman he recently treated for various injuries sustained from a man she was dating. He didn't know to whom he was speaking at the time, he was merely trying to express the hospital's need to expand its services.

They enquired about the woman's future plans. He told them about a wonderful home for abused women, endowed by a young woman named Tanya Denali. Her parents, obviously surprised by this news of their daughter's generosity, asked how she became involved in such a project. The doctor replied, "How else is one likely to become involved? By being a victim herself."

This information, of course, troubled her parents. They easily tracked down the home. They toured it, and learned more about their daughter's philanthropic ways by speaking with many of the women living there. They felt very proud of their daughter.

Then they found and spoke with the new arrival of whom the doctor had spoken. Quinn Lark spoke freely of her ordeal. Quinn told them how she had met Aro Volturi and thought she had found her prince charming. One night he gloated about his time with Tanya. He told her how Tanya wanted revenge on a certain gentlemen by the name of Edward Cullen and how he fulfilled her request by notifying his cousin of his expected arrival in the States. Tanya tried to stop the plan after it was already set in motion. But Aro shut her up and his cousin profited greatly from his encounter.

He became enraged as he spoke of Tanya leaving for the States with the parents of Cullen, who had suddenly returned to the land of the living after he had been missing for a year and a half. He laughed evilly knowing that Cullen wouldn't want anything to do with her after he learned of her betrayal. She was a weak woman as far as he was concerned, with her need to confess her sins.

Quinn didn't understand his comment about shutting Tanya up until she made a grievous error by expressing her approval of Tanya's change of heart. Not only did he beat her to a bloody pulp, but in his blind rage, he kept calling her Tanya. Once the beating stopped, he realized she wasn't Tanya. He mumbled that he would be paying a visit to Tanya's family, to find out when she would be returning. He threatened Quinn's life if she ever told anyone who did this to her. But with help from the doctors, and counselors at Tanya's safe haven, Quinn decided she wouldn't be a victim again.

Her parents never knew that Tanya had suffered at the hands of Aro. They knew that she had changed. She became withdrawn, anxious and quiet. She lost her desire to be part of the social scene and they couldn't engage her in any conversation. They attributed it to my leaving and a true love lost.

They were also concerned that Aro would pay them a visit soon. They informed their staff of the possible danger and made sure that any woman in their employ would not be alone with him. They didn't expect him to arrive unannounced to find Carmen alone in their den. He assumed they were alone and demanded to know when Tanya would return. Carmen refused to answer his questions and he pushed her into the fireplace mantel.

Carmen, knowing his history of violence, grabbed the first thing that her fingers touched upon, which was the handle of a fire iron and hit him on the head, furious that he had hurt her daughter. She didn't hit him hard enough to prevent him from smashing his fists repeatedly into her ribs. But she fought back hitting him again. The mantra of "you hurt my daughter" repeating in her mind, gave her strength to fight back.

Mr. Denali came into the room followed by two servants. Seeing his wife fighting off Aro, he couldn't speak, he just reacted. He grabbed Aro by the shoulder and landed a hard fist to his jaw, causing Aro to fall to the ground. However, Carmen was not done. The adrenaline rush brought on by her fear and anger was her undoing. She hit Aro with the clawed edge of the fire iron landing repeatedly on his head. By the time Mr. Denali was able to take away the fire iron from Mrs. Denali, the damage was done. The severe head trauma impaired his mind.

While Aro deserved the beating he received, the effects it had on their lives, especially Carmen's, was heartbreaking. Of course, the incident was investigated for months. In the end no charges were brought, especially in light of the information provided about Aro when Quinn Lark came forward, told her story to the authorities and pressed charges against him. It took months for Carmen to regain her mental health. Anyone touching her, even a hug from her husband, set her mind to flight for fear of being hurt again. It was Tanya's doctor from the home that eventually helped her cope, heal and regain her life.

When Carmen heard of the Cullens' return, she came to our home and asked about Tanya's whereabouts, expecting a reunion with her daughter. Instead, she found that not only had Tanya not come back, she was engaged to a younger man and living on his plantation. They asked to join the Cullens when they returned, unsure whether their request would be granted considering the events that Tanya set in motion. But both Carlisle and Esme reassured them that I would have found my Bella, one way or another.

H~~H

Christmas Eve was celebrated at the Clearwaters' home. Tanya and Leah were excited to have everyone over. Tanya was proud to cook her first dinner with all the trimmings for us. It was delicious.

It was an eye opening experience for her parents to find she wasn't the same girl who left England six months ago. They had learned of everyone's stories of loss and how we had all come together in a tight knit family from my parents. What they hadn't fully comprehended were the changes in their daughter. It's been over a week since they first came to our door. They've been staying with Tanya and Seth ever since that night.

They watched Tanya smile, laugh and hug all the women—it warmed their hearts.

They watched her speak and joke with all the men without flirting or pouty looks—it surprised them.

Her clothing of work blouse, jeans and boots—amused them.

Her makeup free features and ponytailed hair—amazed them.

Watching her toil in the family garden, take care of livestock or retrieve eggs from the hens—astonished them.

But, it was the love Tanya and Seth openly showed for each other that convinced them that their daughter had indeed truly found her place in the world and was home.

When Seth proclaimed his love and requested their daughter's hand in marriage, they could only thank him over and over again for bringing their daughter such peace and happiness. Of course they said, "Yes."

H~~H

Its Christmas morning and I awake to a warm but empty bed. I can hear Bella in the en suite and I know the little ones are causing her discomfort, but she doesn't complain. She has trouble sleeping and getting comfortable. I just can't imagine there's any room left for her belly to grow.

Mrs. Cope has been brushing up on her midwifery skills. She was originally brought here to help deliver a baby that Renee miscarried in the fourth month in her pregnancy. The bond that grew between Renee and her was so strong that she never left. She became their housekeeper and medic, with her valuable medicinal and medical knowledge. When the time came, she did deliver both Bella and Alice.

At one point, I did ask Bella about delivering the baby at the hospital. Bella informed me that all Swans, except for the founding members, had been born here. She didn't want to break tradition, nor did she have reason to believe that an unknown doctor would take better care of her or the delivery of the little ones then the woman who helped bring her into this world. I honestly couldn't agree with her more. She asked if I would be with her when the time came and I couldn't have been more excited and nervous at the same time. To witness, firsthand, the birth of my children was something I needed to be part of.

The door opening pulls me from my thoughts. Bella comes out of the en suite and slowly makes her way to the bed. She removes her robe. I'm surprised to see that she's wearing a night shift. Very rarely does Bella ever wear something to bed. She knows it will be off in moments. My need to feel skin on skin with my Bella is simply too primal.

She climbs on to the bed and kneels. She looks so uncomfortable and I wish there was something I could do. I prop my head up on my hand. "How are you feeling?" My concern is evident.

"Very large at the moment," she sighs.

"You are carrying two extra people around. Has Mrs. Cope told you about any ways that could help speed up your delivery time?" If there was anything that could be done, I would do it gladly.

She giggles, "Yes, she did actually."

"And what was that or is it a secret?" I smile simply because she laughs. _I can't help it_.

"She said, and I quote, 'A vigorous round or two of lovemaking should help with that,'" and she laughs again.

"Really? And what are your thoughts on that idea?" I smile even more, amused, because I could definitely help her _with that_.

"I think that you started this, you need to finish it," she chuckles at me.

"Bella, if I recall correctly, I was minding _my_ own business, when you first came in to _my_ room offering me a back massage. So, in reality, you started it," I remind her, affronted to take _all_ the blame. Not that I would ever regret or forget every minute detail of that first night of perfect bliss.

"That was only because of all the daydreams and night visions I had after the first time I met you. Then you had to go and smile at me the second time. What was I supposed to do when you came here and worked in the fields, looking so devastatingly handsome out there, in your jeans and t-shirt? You are simply too fine-looking for a young naïve girl with many lustful thoughts to resist. I plead innocent for my lack of self-control. What's a girl to do? It really was all your fault." She huffs and then grins wickedly at me. "The ball's back in your court, Mr. Swan-Cullen."

I chuckle to myself. So she wants to play, does she? I raise a brow, lower my voice a notch, and give her my most carnal smile. "Are you suggesting that I should have said no to the massage?" She's momentarily stunned by the question.

"That I shouldn't have let your hands roam freely on my body?" She lowers her eyelids and her sultry eyes stare into mine.

"That I shouldn't have returned that sweet, soft first kiss?" I sit up and kiss her, reminding her of our first kiss. Her breathing is starting to pick up.

"That I should've stopped you when you took off your shift, exposing your glorious body me?" I whisper in her ear and then leave a trail of kisses from below her ear to the corner of her sweet mouth. My hands reach for the hem of her shift and she sits up from her knees just like that night, but this time I raise it up and over her head.

"That I should've resisted pulling you into my arms, feeling this skin on my skin, and not kissed you like this, my Bella?" I groan as I feel her skin, her hands and her mouth on me once again. It's always the same, this unquenched thirst I have for all things Bella.

"No," Bella moans into my mouth, and I smile.

We reenact our first time together, only this time whispering the words we were thinking. And now I have new memories to add with the proof of our love in full bloom showing on her beautiful body. Then we make joyous new memories the second time around.

H~~H

Bella, Rosalie, Mrs. Cope and my mom spent days transforming the house into a Christmas wonderland. My dad, Emmett, Jasper and I went into town and picked up a large tree for the house for everyone to enjoy, while Emmett, Jasper and my dad bought smaller ones for their homes. We planned on an early supper. Both Alice and Bella tired easily as the days draw closer to their due dates. We guess that Bella's due date is mid-January.

Everyone arrives, including the Denalis. Christmas cheers and well wishes are said and presents to all are put under, around and in the tree. We've just sat down to enjoy the holiday meal, when I feel Bella's fingers dig into my thigh. I gently place a hand on hers and her hand relaxes. I look down at her face and notice its tightness. I slowly start rubbing her back and lean over, whispering in her ear, "Are you okay?"

She forces a smile on her face and nods. I don't like the forced smile at all. Someone asks me a question and I automatically answer it, but I'm concerned for Bella. I let my gaze wander to Mrs. Cope and once her eyes are on me, I slightly tilt my head to Bella. She instantly understands me and continues to surreptitiously watch over her. We start passing the dishes around the table and I offer to fill Bella's plate, but she asks for nothing but water. Minutes have passed when I feel her fingers dig into my thigh again. As I put my hand over hers to soothe her, I look to Mrs. Cope. Mrs. Cope's eyes move to the tall case clock across from the dining room and I guess that she's timing her contractions. Bella's features once again are forced into a pleasant expression while she speaks with Alice across from her. Alice doesn't buy it any more than I do.

I've listened to many conversations around the women, and even some of the men, regarding labor and delivery. Minutes pass again and then I feel Bella's finger hold. I look to Mrs. Cope who again looks to the clock. Mrs. Cope looks back to me, then tilts her head towards our room.

I whisper in Bella's ear, "Come with me," and she gratefully nods. I smile at everyone around the table as I help Bella up. "We need to check on a few things. We'll be back."

"You won't be back for a long while. Let me the first to congratulate you two." Alice knowingly smiles up at us. Then the excitement in the room is palpable as everyone takes turns congratulating us.

Mrs. Cope and my mom left the table and went upstairs ahead of us. I knew they were probably readying the bed. They would remove the good sheets, lay a large rubber pad on the bed, then cover it with old towels and old, clean sheets. Bella felt better walking towards the stairs, when another contraction hit. She stopped, as I stood in front of her and leaned down to put my forehead to hers. Her grip on my hand is stronger than I have felt from any man. I try to soothe her by rubbing her belly. I'm astonished to find that it is rock hard. Then I feel the tension in it subside and so does her grip. She inhales and blows out her breath, visibly relaxing before my eyes.

"Do you want me to carry you upstairs?" I offer.

"No, I want to walk. It feels better," she murmurs.

I nod my head and we slowly make our way up the stairs. "So, do you think this is it? Their time has come to show us what they look like?"

She nods. "I hope they look just like you." She smiles up at me.

"Well, if Alice is wrong and we have a girl, I hope she looks just like you," I counter, grinning.

"Alice isn't wrong," Bella huffs.

"Well, I wouldn't bet against her. Just saying that if she is, and we do have a girl, I want her to have your beautiful eyes." She laughs and relaxes more.

We make it to our room and Bella walks into the en suite to change. I follow her in and help her remove her shoes and clothing and slip on her nightshift. "This is a first," I smile at her. She giggles and then doesn't, as another contraction hits her, and I hold her to comfort her through it.

Once she's able to catch her breath and relax, I give credit where credit is due, "Well, I think we know now that Mrs. Cope's idea to induce labor works." Bella lets out a bark of laughter as she smiles up at me. I kiss her because she is the most precious thing in the world to me.

Mrs. Cope checks Bella and says that it'll be a few hours yet and we all try to make her comfortable. Mostly she wants to walk around. We talk about everything - the gifts we gave to everyone; the gifts we gave each other; the trip to London; the trip to New Orleans; my dad's desire to purchase and open a mill in Savannah; the coming planting season; how Bella will plant her new seeds; everything and anything, including the weather. _It is a fine day._

Finally, the time arrives. I'm sitting behind Bella as her back support in aid of birthing the little ones. She rests on my chest briefly before her fingers, once again, are grasping my bent knees. I watch in amazement as she strains to push Swan-Cullen number one into the world. Mrs. Cope announces that it's a boy. My mom's in love already as she takes him from Mrs. Cope to clean, measure and weigh him. His cries are lusty after his first breath. But, Bella's reprieve is short lived when, seven minutes later, Swan-Cullen number two enters our world. He is the more docile of the two, at the moment, as Alice takes him, pure joy in her eyes, from Mrs. Cope. I hug an exhausted Bella to me and kiss her cheek.

"I love you, my Bella. Forever and always. Thank you for my sons," my voice rough from the miracle I just witnessed and the strength of my love.

"I love you too, my Edward. So much. Forever and always. Thank you for giving them to me," her voice also filled with awe at what we created.

An hour later, the bed is refreshed with clean sheets, Bella has changed into a clean gown, and the little ones are bathed, swaddled and being held in Bella's and my arms. They look identical, both seem to have my wayward cowlicks, in the color of brown with shades of red and gold. Their eyes are blue with a hint of green in the mix. My mom says they look just like me when I was first born. _It seems Bella got her wish._

The only difference is baby number one, Edward Anthony Swan-Cullen, weighed in two ounces heavier than his younger brother, Charles Carlisle Swan-Cullen. My mom is overjoyed and my dad is overwhelmed by our decision for the boys' names.

I look at my Bella. She is tired, but so content, staring down at little Charlie and then little Edward. She's simply radiant. Charlie starts fussing a bit, but when Bella speaks quietly to him, he calms right down. I know in my heart that she will give our children all the love a child could ever need, _tenfold_. Our family comes in by couples to see the new additions. Surprisingly, the guys are just as anxious to hold the little ones as are the girls. Luckily, we have two, so there are no disputes.

After everyone has conveyed their good wishes and good nights, it is just Bella, Alice, Jasper and me alone in our room, late into the evening. Jasper is holding Charlie, while Alice takes possession of Edward. Bella and I are eating our warmed up Christmas dinner when Jasper asked, "So Edward, how was it? Being there to watch the birth? Were you worried? Scared? Wished you weren't there?"

I snort out a laugh and almost upend my dinner. I know those are the things that worried him, but for some reason, none of those things crossed my mind. Of course, I worried for Bella's pain and health, but she never complained during the whole experience, which made it easy to focus solely on her and her needs.

"It was perfect. I'm glad I was there. If or when the time comes for another little one, I assure you, I will be there also. All you have to do is try to make Alice as comfortable as possible. You'll do fine," I grin at him while Alice winks at me.

He nods his head as he gently holds little Charlie's hand. He looks up at Alice and tenderly smiles at her. "Yeah, we'll do fine."

"H~~H

The Cullen coat of arms has been part of my family's heritage for hundreds of years. It is made up of three symbols: an open hand, the lion, and the trefoil. The hand represents faith and sincerity; the lion represents strength and serenity; and the trefoil represents perpetuity. I made, as one of my gifts for Bella for Christmas, a hand carved sign with a coat of arms. In addition to the symbols from the Cullen coat of arms, I included two white swans with their heads resting together, their elegant long necks bowed out, then slanting down towards where their chests touch, creating a heart. I carved them so they are resting in the palm of the hand. A visual honor of the love Charlie and Renee shared and for the Sisters Swan.

Just as Bella changed the history of the Swan Plantation by being the first female heir, I am the first to change our crest to include my wife and children. The Swan-Cullen sign has just been hung up at the beginning of the drive. Bella was so pleased and proud of the craftsmanship when she saw it for the first time this morning that she insisted we hang it up immediately. She also insisted she be present for the installation, as well as Little E and C. The rest of the family helped mark a historic moment in the Swan family journals.

H~~H

**1941**

**Edward**

The harvest is again upon us. I stand with pride, watching all the activity from the veranda. It never gets old watching the little cotton plant begin and end its life cycle, year after year. With Emmett in charge, everything is running like clockwork.

My dad did end up purchasing a small mill in the spring of 1936. The mill was upgraded with the latest in technology and opened in time for that year's harvest. Two men from the Savior had worked in various mills and became my father's foreman and manager. Between the Clearwaters, the Savior's Crew Co-Op, and our crop, the mill could be kept busy for most of the year. Once the material is ready, it is either shipped via train towards the west or loaded on to the Savior for delivery along the Atlantic Seaboard. Men from the mill or the Co-Op multitask, never forgetting their enjoyment in being out to sea. Since World War II is in full swing, every one of the men are indebted to Carlisle for giving them the opportunity to come here to the States and not have their families near the conflict. Of course, we all worry about the people and the nation we left behind, but knowing our families are safe from the bombings and fighting brings great solace.

Bella ended up thanking me for relieving her of cooking duty for the laborers. _Quite nicely and several times over._ She definitely has her hands full with the our children. Little E and C are in first grade and will be turning 6 this Christmas. Alethea Ashley, named after the pioneering Swan, is her mother's spitting image and just turned four. Identical twins, Eric Evan and Joseph Jasper, shortened to Ease and Jays, will be two next week, and look exactly like their older brothers. When Bella wants the boys' attention, all she has to call out is, "little greenka's" and they all come running. Last, but definitely not least is baby Elizabeth Alice or Lellabeth, as the littler ones call her, who is one month old. She is a wonderful blend of the both of us.

Mrs. Cope is no longer spending all her time in the kitchen. She handed the reins of not only the kitchen but her heart to Laurent. They plan on marrying in the winter and have plans for their honeymoon in France. Laurent does most of the cooking for the family. Every night as we thank him for his delicious creations, he thanks us for bringing him here and to his love. She has her hands full with all the little ones. And not just ours. She has delivered a total of 22 babies in the last 6 years, just in our extended family alone.

Jasper and Alice have been three times blessed. Renee Esme, or Reme as we call her, is a mini Alice. Jasper Edward, or Jazz, is his father's son in looks and bearing. Jackson Alexander is an interesting combination of the two. One day he looks like Alice, and then the next, like Jasper. We call him Chippy, as in a chip off the old block, but in his case, two blocks.

Rosalie and Emmett's three are: Jaclyn Virginia, or Jax, named for Emmett's dad Jack and his mother Lynne, and has Rosalie's looks, but her father's exuberance; Robert Douglas, Rob for short, is the masculine version of Rosalie with his handsome fair looks; and Emily Rose is a beautiful feminine likeness of Emmett.

Leah and Sam have Harry Samuel, whom I'm told looks just like Leah and Seth's dad. Samantha Susannah, or Sassy girl as we call her, is a beauty like Leah but with Sam's inquisitive nature. Lastly, there is the sweet and gorgeous Rebecca Diane Michelle. They couldn't settle on her name but we call her RD or Mickey for short.

Tanya and Seth have three also. Seth Anthony a strapping lad at 5 with Tanya's fairness. Sandra Carmen, or Sandy, has blonde hair, but Seth's open, honest features. Little Isabella Alice, or Lili, is Tanya's reincarnation. Carmen and Eleazar now reside here in the States with the Clearwaters. Both are enjoying the lifestyle change very much.

Daisy and Embry have added four beautiful children into our mix. Flavia was named after the princess in the Prisoner of Zenda. Daisy loves that story. She also enjoys Roman history. Constantine and Justinian, the only other set of twins, are smart and strong. Their newest, Basia, is a beauty at only two months old.

Due to her wonderful care for our woman and children, other couples, such as Angela and Ben Cheney and Jessica and Mike Newton, started asking if Mrs. Cope would deliver their children. The woman never tires of her renewed occupation. Luckily for us, we're her home.

We all get together weekly and it's a sight to behold. The adults are preparing food or eating, playing music or singing, and playing games with all the little ones. The children all play well together and are best friends. Their bond is as strong as the adults with each other. I never knew that life could ever be this good.

I hear the front door open behind me and turn to see my Bella smiling at me. I stretch out my hand to her and she takes it. She always takes my hand and I always sigh when I feel that current flow between us as our souls touch. I pull her in front of me and encircle her within my arms. I rest my chin on her shoulder and we both watch the harvest. I kiss her cheek and she smiles that warm sultry grin that always speeds up my heart. I have everything and more that a man could ever hope for. My children, my family, my Bella, and the Plantation. The land that accepted me and invited me to stay. I'm forever grateful it did.

H~~H

**March 16, 2013**

**Robin Swan-Cullen**

I've spent years reading and re-reading the Swan family journals. I've read about the first pioneers to set foot on this land, taming the wilderness with brains, brawn, and sweat. They created this grand Plantation with little cotton seeds. The Swan family persevered through wars, for independence, the Civil War, and both world wars. They held on through depressions, diseases affecting both man and crops, fires, droughts, and an occasional hurricane. A Swan has subsisted and thrived off this land and continues on, breathing, working, living and loving, one generation after another.

Bella and Alice kept separate journals, apart from what was written in the family historical ones. I found them, and Charlie's metal box, in a hidden compartment in the heirloom Wooten desk, which still resides in the office today. It was through these journals that I learned of their personal struggles, and how each girl lived before the trying times of the Great Depression and coped after their parents' deaths.

It was their family, the one they grew up in, and the ones they created and inspired, that held them together and eventually brought happiness back into their lives. The detailed writings of finding their true loves, and some very intimate moments of their love lives, brought me closer to these two women then I could've ever hoped. They were passionate, strong and feisty women who never settled for anything but what was best for them and those around them. I admire that spirit and fortitude and often wonder if I would have been able to survive intact, the way they did.

Around here, the names McCarty, Clearwater, Uley, Call, Swan-Whitlock and Swan-Cullen stand for honor, commitment, loyalty and trust. If you can count anyone with one of these names as a friend, you can count on all of them to stand beside you, through thick or thin. It's just how the land grows them out here.

I know. I'm one of the lucky ones who married a Swan-Cullen. My Edward is the fourth generation of the original Edward Anthony Cullen. He looks so much like his great grandfather, with his autumn colored hair and fern green eyes and his wicked grin. He's almost an exact replica, not only in looks, but in mannerisms, character, intelligence and loving nature, based on the way Bella described her Edward, except about an inch difference in height.

Coming in from checking the fields, he slowly walks up the steps, dressed in tight Levi's, boots and a white work shirt. He favors me with his slow burning, smoldering look that makes my whole body tremble every time.

He cocks his brow at me, "Are you finished?"

"Yes, it's done," I smile up at him.

"It's a wonderful story you wrote about my family. If only one person enjoys it, I will be forever grateful that you took the time to write it," he smiles down at me.

"You liked?" I ask, loving that line.

"Yes, I liked. In fact, I loved it. But, I love you more," he chuckles deeply, lifting me up from the porch swing to hug and kiss me tenderly.

"Are you coming upstairs?" He murmurs in my ear and I shiver warmly at those tantalizing words.

"In a moment. I just need to do one last thing," I whisper and turn in his embrace.

When I've retrieved my laptop, Edward rests his chin on my shoulder, his hands resting below my baby belly. Twin boys due to arrive next month. Relaxed in the comfort of Edward's arms, I let my eyes wander over the vastness of this land, in the twilight of the evening. For almost three hundred years, generations of Swan heirs have gazed upon this very same view. _And what a view it is._

I push the send button and wait a few moments to ensure my writing is delivered. I close my laptop with a happy sigh. Their story is now told and I can only hope that people will find as much inspiration as I have… from the story of the Sisters Swan.


End file.
